


Taking in Strays

by EnemiesWithBenefits



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: At least I tried to be, Dom Sans, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Female pronouns, Friends with bonefits, Gender-Neutral Frisk, I'm horrible at tagging, M/M, Might not finish, Protective Sans, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has female parts, Reader-Insert, Realistic, Slowwww burn, Temporary Amnesia, There is the sex, Update tags as i go along, pet kink, poor alphys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 37,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemiesWithBenefits/pseuds/EnemiesWithBenefits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the first thousand times watching his brother die, he started killing Frisk from the start. He didn't care if they knew or not what they did. He just couldn't stop once he started.</p><p>He'd been expecting a child. He'd been expecting Frisk.</p><p>He hadn't been expecting you.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>INDEFINITE HIATUS</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zero

After everything, at least the ground you were sleeping on was soft. It almost made you rethink about waking to up at the current moment, and continue sleeping. Besides, when might you get another chance to sleep so soundly? But with a jolt, unable to stop the flush of terror causing you to wake up, you realized you didn’t know where you were. The place you were sleeping was nice, yes, but it wasn’t your bed. Your bed was harder than this, wasn’t it?

 

It was dark, the only light of the small space cascading from above. Beneath you wasn’t either the hard earth or a lumpy mattress, but a bed of glimmering golden flowers. They didn’t even so much as wilt or shrink beneath your weight, springing back into shape whenever you moved from on top of them.

 

The space around you was a cavern with shadow filled edges, and as you looked up all you saw was a gaping maw filled with the light of the surface. You must’ve fallen from all the way up there. From where and how, you couldn’t quite remember. Maybe you’d hit your head – that seemed plausible for the long fall and sudden amnesia. At least you remembered your name, y/n.

 

Dusting yourself off, you realized that with nothing to lose, you were making for quite the curious person. Hell yeah you were scared of what might be waiting beyond this seemingly safe room filled with light and warmth, but that didn’t mean you’d get anywhere by sitting around. You needed to move forward, and see what was ahead.

 

Deciding with nothing better to do, you began to move forward, the impossible glowing flowers filling you with **determination.**


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wander the ruins only to find the one and only Flowey, former prince Asriel - only, you don't know that, do you?

The next room was dark, light pooling in the center to reveal a small golden flower. Unintimidated by a flower, you continued walking until the flower quivered. Taken back, you stared at it for a long moment, jumping back when it suddenly sprang to life.

 

“Howdy! I’m Flowey! Flowey the Flower!” Its voice was a high pitched giggle, completely shocking you. You didn’t have any words for a flower that could talk. Funnily enough, deep down and beneath your shock, you were slightly annoyed and put off by such a friendly creature. Maybe you were still dreaming – or hallucinating from the fall. Not the greatest of conclusions, meaning that you might need to see someone about a concussion – and soon.

 

”Hi…?” It was the best you could come up with, Flowey’s expression turning concerned.

 

“You’re new to the underground, Aint’cha?” The Flower bobbed slightly, it’s leaves used theatrically as it spoke, as if it had hands. Well, that cemented the hallucination thing. No way mannerisms like those existed in an underground race of… well, whatever lived down here in The Underground, as Flowey called it. “Golly, you must be so confused. I suppose it’s up to me to show you how things are done down here, huh?”

 

Warring between telling the golden flower it wouldn’t be necessary and being grateful – also, still annoyed – you were shocked by a sudden warmth flowing from your chest. Watching in horror and fascination, you _knew_ you had to be dreaming. Floating from the center of your chest came a small, timid looking, yet confident red heart.

 

"What the fuck?” Flowey, for all intents and purposes, ignored your rather choice language.

 

 “This is your soul.” Flowey explained. Deciding to go along with it for now, you listened, enraptured by the glowing heart. “Here in the underground, you need to make your heart grow by collecting LV, or LOVE. Here, you collect LOVE through exp.”

 

Okay this seemed pretty nice for a dream-styled-videogame. There was no way you’d still be alive if this was a hallucination – a fall deadly enough to cause something on this scale of what the fuck, and you wouldn’t have survived for this long. Plus the fact everything seemed extraordinarily vivid. Real-life vivid.

 

Holy hell, thinking about it, you could _move_ the heart. It wasn’t so much _thinking_ as it was moving a part of your body. Now _that_ was wicked. Deciding to entertain yourself, Flowey seemed content as you watched, engaged in getting the hang of controlling your soul.

 

Around Flowey, five white pellets appeared and floated around the smiling flower. Y’know, maybe this wasn’t too bad -  this might be fun for a dream, and so far it was ramping up to be some kind of adventure. A coherent one at that, as improbable as the whole thing was.

 

“These are friendliness pellets. This is how you gain exp! Now, hold still and try to gather as many as you can!” Prepared for something pleasant, you did as he said, watching curiously as the white pellets spun through the air, headed straight for your soul. They impacted, and you nearly screamed, falling to your knees.

 

“You **idiot**.” Your soul, a seemingly timid and fluttering thing, began to shiver violently. That felt so fucking _real._ Eyes wide, you looked up from your soul to the grinning flower. Its expression was all wrong now – demonic, almost. “Down here, **It’s killed or be killed.** ”

 

"You bastard!” You snapped, struggling to your feet, just wishing you could hide away your soul like before you knew it even existed. Then again, Flowey might resort to physical violence – and you knew you might need to be able to physically run away if things continued to go south. You had  _no idea_ what this damn flower was capable of.

 

“How could I pass up an opportunity like this – killing you? You should be considered _lucky_ I found you first.” First? Were there others looking for you? Ignoring the question whether or not this was real, you became more focused on escaping with your life. “Now stand still, and **Die!** ”

 

More pellets, seemingly hundreds of them, began to advance on your soul. There was no way you would be able to handle something like that – physically _or_ through your soul.

 

Out of nowhere, by a stroke of luck, a fireball – yes a _fucking fireball_ – seemingly appeared from nowhere, causing Flowey to shrink away and escape. Much less interested in how a flower escapes and more interested on the sudden arrival, you blinked up in surprise at your savior. It – she? – was a humanoid-goat like creature, with a kind, worried expression adorning her gentle features. You could immediately sense the warmth and kindness that radiated from her maternal appearance.

 

“What a terrible creature, attacking such an innocent youth,” Despite all of this, a sudden weakness in your knees and throbbing in the back of your head started to blur your vision. Paired with the fluttering of your soul – and your heart – you couldn’t help but collapse, fainting from either pain or shock – you didn’t know. All you did know, something that filled you with sudden **determination –** was that this _, this was real._


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel turns out to be as sweet as monster candy - only, when things come down to you deciding you need to go home, you realize she's not exactly willing to let you go.  
> 

You’re not quite sure where you are when you wake up, only that it’s somewhere completely new. It’s not your bed at home, or a soft bed of golden flowers –

 

Oh, right. Jerking awake for the second time, you find yourself in a child’s room. The space is clean and clearly meant for someone not in their early twenties, the bed only fitting since you were curled into yourself beneath the covers. There’s a box of toys, a dresser, and other assortments of furniture. All of this was covered in an aged layer of dust.

 

The bed, at least, seemed softer than anything you'd ever slept on – even softer than the improbable flowers. Thinking of flowers, you remembered Flowey and exactly what happened with clarity. This must be that goat woman’s home. It’s a shame you passed out before you could thank her, or ask her her name. Luckily, she seemed kind enough to bring you to her home and – was that pie?

 

Very quickly aware of the smell of fresh pie, you quickly got out of the bed. Grateful it wasn’t cold from out of the covers, you struggled to find the light switch in the dark. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel hurt or sore at all, especially after the fall and fighting Flowey.

 

Once the light was on, you took a good look around at the simplistic room and its childish features. Next, you looked yourself over. You were dressed in your same jeans and shirt, your usually durable tennis shoes looking like they’d seen better days. You didn’t seem physically hurt, the only sign of pain a slight thrumming ache that you could easily ignore. Grateful, you decided you’d have to thank your savior, soon.

 

Spotting the source of the delicate aroma in the air, you heard your stomach growl at the sight of the pie. What kind of pie was it? Curious, you took the plate off of the floor, trying a small bite. Cinnamon… butterscotch? What a unique flavor – it really blended well and luckily, it was still warm. Deciding what the hell, you ate it ravenously, deciding you’d have to thank the goat lady as soon as possible. Shivering as you ate, you decidedly ignored and didn’t question how eating the food made you feel _much_ better.

 

Once you were done eating, exploring the house didn’t take long – neither did finding your host. She was sitting in a living room, a book in hand while waiting expectantly. She looked up when you came in, a warm smile making you feel welcomed. In all honesty, you just wanted to curl up and cry – _monsters? Real? Jesus fucking Christ._

But to be perfectly honest, who’s to say you could trust anyone down here? _Fuck! You never should’ve eaten that pie… then again, if she wanted you dead, you'd be so already, wouldn’t you?_

Noticing your sudden worry, she sighed, closing the book. “How’re you feeling? I can only assume you must be very shocked.”

 

Nodding, not really trusting your voice at the moment, she continued after a patient pause.

 

“I was awfully worried after you fainted, child. I suppose it is a lot to take in, Monsters being real.” Hell yeah – you remembered being _afraid_ of monsters. And now? Here was one right now, talking to you and calling you a child! Hey – you could drink alcohol and get away with it! Then again, growing up did suck. It almost felt nice to be coddled after everything that’d happened so far.

 

“Trust me when I say no harm will come to you here. I am Toriel, keeper of the ruins. This is my home – your new home.” She explained, and you frowned in response.

 

“My new home?”

 

“Well of course! There’s nowhere else you could go, and It’d be great to have someone to take care of, innocent one. Don’t you think that would be great? We could grow a garden, cook together, gather snails…” Even through all her excitement however, she must’ve noticed your unease.

 

You couldn’t stay here – not only did you _know_ she was lying; you didn’t think you’d be happy in this little house in the caverns – or wherever this was. Ruins, right? It just wouldn’t be enough. You might not remember your family at the moment, but you knew you had to have people that cared for you, that must be looking for you.

 

“There must be some way to the surface, Toriel.” In response, the kind lady only seemed to grow distant, her kind façade melting away. “ _Please_ ,” you continued. “I’m very grateful, but there must be some way!”

 

“No, there isn’t.” Her voice was cold and clipped. The sudden look in her eyes made you feel sick, as if she were going to abandon you at any moment. Like a parent putting their child down. Damn it – you shouldn’t be feeling this way – like a _child._ That was one good thing about being an adult. You deserved _respect_. You demanded it, even. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have something to do. Perhaps you should go rest, young one.”

 

Without another word, Toriel left the room and you watched, with a sinking feeling. You could hear her footsteps on the stairs, understanding that she was about to do something wrong. You had to stop her – but how? You didn’t want to hurt her – hurt _anyone_.

 

Resigned, you followed her, filled with **determination**.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You help Toriel battle her past, while coming to the grim conclusion that you need to make it through the underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add this chapter at the insistence of a friend.

The hallway you find yourself in is bland and plain, and the only real quality to it is that it’s long and purple. Toriel’s standing in the middle of the hallway a few yards away, and despite the maternal figure you’re accustomed to, her figure is ominous. When you shuffle forward, if only to gather her attention, the look she throws over her shoulder is blank and calloused.

 

“You wish to know how to return ‘Home’ do you not? Ahead of us lies the end of the ruins. A one-way ticket to the rest of the underground.” Her voice isn’t its usual kind soft tone that had made you feel safe. You’re not quite sure you’re going to like what else she has to say. “I am going to destroy it.”

 

Well fuck.

 

“No one will be able to ever leave again. Now, be a good child and go upstairs.” Without a word in edgewise, she leaves you, turning the corner a few yards away. You feel chilled through – you thought you could trust Toriel, but all you know right now is she won’t let you leave. She hasn’t said _why_ yet. A small part of you is filled with the hope that it’s for a good reason, that this kind creature is still good, and it’s that part of you that motivates you forward.

 

When you turn the corner, she seems to be gathering herself, and tenses when she hears you approach. You’re surprised she’s surprised. Had she assumed you would head her warning? You’re determined to keep pushing her until you knew more. Until she told you _why._

“Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again.” The hollow echo to her words have their desired effect. Every syllable feels final and you can guess what she’s leading up to. You really want to hope it’s not true. “They come. They leave. They die.”

 

You feel too sick to speak.

 

“You naïve child…” She continues, throwing you a dark glare. “If you leave the ruins… they – **Asgore** … will kill you.” She sighs, her voice growing lighter. “I am only protecting you, do you understand?” You want to nod, but you’re not quite sure whether you agree with her or not. You understand, yes, but is this really the right thing to do? She looks ahead once more. “Go to your room.”

 

She walks away.

 

You really want to walk away right now. Toriel’s right, and there’s nothing but danger lying ahead. Everything would be so simple down here with Toriel, and you could pretend to live a simple life with the monster. You could even grow to call her mom, despite you being an adult. But what if your memories returned? What if there was some chance of returning to a family, your friends, anybody looking for you right now? What if you found yourself trapped here, with no escape, all because you’d been too selfish and scared to try?

 

Sighing, you knew Toriel had all the right reasons. But you _had_ to leave. From what you’d experienced, the ruins were just as dangerous as whatever was past its exit – who knew what might happen? Anything, if your bizarre experience so far had anything to say about it.

 

You walk forward, coming face to back with Toriel once more. Only this time, you’re certain of what you want.

 

“Do not try to stop me. This is your final warning.” She doesn’t even care to look at you when she says this. She knows you’re there. Does she feel your resolution? You’re prepared to do what it takes – anything but kill her, that is. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if it came down to it.

 

You follow her, and finally, you come to a door.

 

Toriel stands before you, shoulders weighed down with what seems to be the weight of the world. She sighs, and you can imagine the grief and pain on her face. She mentioned losing other humans the same way – but how many? And how many more would she have to lose? You decided she wasn’t going to lose anyone else. _You would return._

 

“You want to leave so badly?” She asks, turning to face you. Any sign of her sadness is gone, nothing but a vague look of apathy left behind. You squash down your guilt and fear. You’d get through to her – she had to understand. Because if _you_ didn’t believe in yourself to see her again one day, then she’d had to be the one to believe. You’d _make_ her believe.

 

“You are just like the others,” She begins, and you notice how she seems to look right through you, and you can see ghosts of the past haunting her vision. You shiver, because there’s something ancient in her eyes that scares you. Finally, she focuses on you, seeming to notice your grim determination. “There is only one solution to this. Prove yourself. Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.”

 

With a sudden bubbling warmth, your heart returns, glowing brightly in front of you. You’re terrified, because you suddenly realize Toriel is about to attack you. She might even _kill_ you. Wait – this is _Toriel._ She wouldn’t hurt you, right?

 

You’re quickly proved wrong when she uses the very same magic she used against Flowey on you. The flame scorches your immobile heart, and you hiss at what physically feels like getting too close to a fire. Remembering how to move your soul from Flowey’s instructions, you decide that you’d get through this. _Without_ you or Toriel dying.

 

A few minutes later and you’re exhausted, having been hit multiple times. By now she seems to purposely miss, and you know it’s because you feel like you might be done in with one more fire blast. Your body feels weak, and while you can still move your soul with as much dexterity as before, it takes a lot more focus. Toriel has been silent this whole time, her face a mask of apathy.

 

“I’m sorry, Toriel.” You supply, breathing heavily. She doesn’t reply, sending another wave of magic your way. You don’t move.

 

“I know you’re hurt from losing so many people,” She attacks. She misses.

 

“but I _have_ to leave.” You cry out, as she hits you again, and for a split moment her face turns to horror. You think that she’s going to try and pick you up, but to both her surprise and your own, you get up on your own albeit slowly and painfully.

 

“What are you _doing?_ ” She snaps, finally speaking. “Attack or run away!”

 

“You have to let me go, Toriel!”

 

“What are you proving this way?” She snarls, “Fight me or leave!”

 

You refuse to raise a hand in your defense as fire continues to narrowly and purposely miss your soul.

 

“Stop it! Stop looking at me like that!”

 

“Toriel, I promise you I _will_ return.” You bite out, voice thick as you pant out in exhaustion. “You have to trust me! Trust that I can make it through alive!”

 

Something inside Toriel’s eyes snap. A large wave of fire, burning bright and stinging your skin heads straight towards your soul. You’re certain you’re going to die. That this is it – you couldn’t get through Toriel and now, she’s going to be left with your charred and crumpled body to bury. You’re shaking.

 

The wall of fire stops short, and you open your eyes to the sound of a broken sob. Toriel is crying, giving you a pleading look.

 

“I know you want to go home but… but please go upstairs, now. I promise I will take good care of you here. I know we won’t have much but… We can have a good life here.” She sniffles, raising a large fur covered paw to wipe away her tears. Her smile, although a welcome sight, is sarcastic and ironic. “Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single child.”

 

“It’s not -” She cuts you off, raising the very same paw.

 

“No, I understand. You would be unhappy trapped down here. The ruins are very small once you get used to them,” She pauses, sighing heavily. “And you are right, what if you _do_ succeed? If you can return monsters to the surface?” She seems to examine you, and you give her a tentative smile. In return, she steps forward, and with you covering the rest of the distance, she hugs you tightly.

 

“Please,” She whispers. “If you can’t – if you can’t break the barrier… Don’t return.”

 

You smile wryly into her fur.

 

“Not going to happen.” You assure, filled with  **determination.**


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is definitely caught unaware when the human he meets isn't the one he's out to kill. So instead of doing the right thing, he's just twisted enough to let you live.

Toriel was before of your soul, hands placed in front of the small heart as her hands began to glow. You’re afraid, if only because you’re still afraid she might change her mind. However, your worries are misplaced as your heart glows brighter than usual, your body heating up pleasantly. Instantly you felt better, in both your body and soul.

 

Toriel looked down at you with a tender smile, but without another word, left you alone to fend for yourself.

 

Now, feeling utterly more alone than you’d ever been in your entire life, you knew there was no point in staying here. You’d already worked so hard – biting down your fear, you walked up to the imposing door and _pushed._ It gave, and opened into another long purple hallway. The only difference here was that you struggled to keep warm.

 

Up ahead you could see the light of whatever was ahead, and you almost thought you could see snow. Continuing onward, you were unprepared for where the ruins lead out into. Behind you was the large door of the Ruins, but all around you was snow and forest. The trees and white landscape seemed to stretch on forever, the insufferable chill in the air causing you to curl in on yourself.

 

“I suppose I’ve got to keep going. That or freeze.” With a huff, you trekked onwards, trying to take in as much as you could as you went. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume you were out at night on the surface, during winter. The thought made it a little more bearable, and you could _almost_ forget everyone here was out to kill you.

 

A twig snapped.

 

Almost.

 

Spinning around, the stick that’d been laying in the path moments before was snapped in half. Shit.

 

Deciding to pick up the pace, you kept moving and tried to remain calm. There was a slim chance it was nothing but whatever passed for harmless animals down here. Sticking to that slim chance, you came across to a bridge. But before you could pass, there was a sudden change in the air.

 

“don’t you know how to greet a new pal, kid?” There was something _wrong._ The air crackled with a red tint, a sudden pressure – firmer than the wind - causing you to turn around and face the owner of the low voice. To your surprise, you found a skeleton.

 

Not a bones picked clean, dead creature skeleton, but a grinning skeleton who was smiling rather broadly. He was wearing a blue jacket, shorts, and pink slippers, as if he hadn’t cared enough to get properly dressed.

 

In his eyes sockets two pinpricks of light passed for his eyes, as he seemed to pause. A light sweat broke out on his skull, his smile suddenly forced. “well, this is, uh, awkward. who’re you?”

 

He looked genuinely surprised, as if he’d been expecting someone else.

 

“y/n,” you answered numbly, unsure if you should be frightened or amused. He was incredibly hard to read – was he surprised? Malicious? Amused? And how in the hell had he been sweating? “And you are…?”

 

“sans. sans the skeleton.” He greeted, and the smile turned genuine. “you know, i was hoping to see someone else. i, uh, well this is unexpected. I was going to kill you, but i, hmm, don’t think that’s necessary anymore.”

 

Your stomach dropped like a stone. The amusement in you turned into dread.

 

“but i can’t let you go either.” He reasoned, a bony hand reaching up and scratching the top of his skull. Suddenly trying to turn and run, you found it impossible to move. What the hell?

 

“Let me go!” Struggling, you’d be damned if you weren’t trying to get away. There was no telling what this skeletal prick might do to you – you should’ve stayed with Toriel, damn it! You were _safe_ there, begone that horrible flower.

 

"relax.” He soothed, raising his hands up in a calming gesture, his smile turning feral. “i don’t _have_ to hurt you, but when you put it this way… i really hate annoying brats.”

 

Immediately quieting, you kept struggling, but a little more aware of the way his left eye was starting to flare a bright red. What should you do? He said he wouldn’t kill you, but he didn’t exactly promise to get all buddy-buddy with you, did he?

 

“i might just keep you instead,” He finally decided, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “pap would love a pet human, i think.”

 

Looking into his eyes, you steeled yourself. You’d get through this – you had to, just like with Toriel. Encouraged by your decision, you stared down the skeleton straight into his burning eyes, filled with **determination.**


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is acting like he didn't just threaten you. As for Papyrus, he's just as hard to figure out as Sans.
> 
> You just want to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a new chapter, since I actually added a new one earlier in the story... but i promise I'll post an actual new one soon!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your support thus far! I love you all for it <3

You’re not quite sure how it happened, or where you are when it does, but suddenly you’ve been moved. In an instant you’re on the ground wheezing, feeling as if you’ve just gone on the most extreme roller coaster of your entire life. Your eyes prick and blur with tears, your lungs burning with the effort of pulling oxygen out of the air.

 

You think you feel a hard hand on your back, soothing you, but it’s gone before you even have a chance to think too much about it. For a phantom feeling, it’s comforting.

 

Your eyes slowly begin to focus as you pant, an ugly – but soft – green and purple carpet beneath the palm of your hands and knees. It hurts a little to push your weight into it, so you stand without much thought about what’s happened. Getting to your feet is another carnival ride in itself, as you wobble and brace yourself in case your balance doesn’t return soon enough.

 

When you can finally look around without your body betraying you, you think, that if you hadn’t just been kidnapped(?), this was a very unintimidating house. The living room you’re in is big and only has three pieces of furniture, but each piece is big as if there was someone much bigger than a stout skeleton living here. There’s a TV, table, and couch. All of the furniture is comically huge in comparison to both you and the skeleton.

 

Before you can get a further chance to really notice what’s inside the kitchen or how many rooms there are behind the upstairs balcony, you notice that Sans is watching you from across the room, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. You don’t really know what to think, to be honest. Or how to feel. Or what to say.

 

"You’re looking rather…”

 

You’ve just been _kidnapped_ , right? Then why is there a large grin plastered on his skull?

 

“ _Stern_ um.”

 

Did he just make a mother fucking pun?

 

It has its desired effect, the whole bizarre situation allowing a small crack of a smile to dent your face. His grin widens, and for a good few seconds, you forget he just threatened to kill you a few moments ago. The way he holds himself and the way he speaks is as if he’s talking to a good friend. That’s all this was to him – two good friends cracking at it.

 

“C’mon, _throw me a bone,_ and stop giving me the _cold_ shoulder. You know it goes _right through me._ ”

 

God damn it. You laugh, weakly, but when he takes a step forward, any hint of amusement turns into fear. He notices, because his own smile becomes forced and he starts sweating again.

 

"Pap’s gonna be home soon. I, uh, shit.” He looks out of his element, and you wonder for a split moment if he really has it in him to treat you this way. What was it again? Oh yeah, he said _pet._

“Let me go.” You break the tense silence, your voice nowhere near convincing with how it breaks. Damn it. You meant to sound stern, if not confident.

 

            “Sorry, no can do, bud.” There’s a sudden knowing look in his eyes, and he just stares at you. You know he’s not actually staring _at_ you _,_ though. He’s thinking. “When Pap gets home I’ll go shopping. But, uh, that’s if he calms down first. It’s gonna be pretty _sans_ ational.”

 

“Why?” You interrupt his impromptu monologue, and he seems to focus and manage to look confused through all his grinning. “Why can’t you just let me leave? I just want to go home.” You argue, sounding a little more resolute, realizing that since the door wasn’t anywhere in your line of sight, it must be behind you. Easy – right? You could turn around and bolt – as long as you caught him off guard first. You didn’t need him stopping you with any of that freaky magic shit again.

 

His eyes seem to dim, and a shiver runs through you. “Kid, past that door… outside this house… you’ll be lucky to survive.” Did he want you to think this was a _favor_? Keeping you here, under his supervision? Strangely, you’re reminded of Toriel. “Take my word for it, I’m not _fibula_ ing.”

 

“I don’t believe you!” Finally, you snap, snarling in frustration. The emotion burns down your back – prickling like embarrassment and hot like anger and shame. You need to leave.

 

Turning, deep down a part of you is relieved you have the freedom to turn away from him and take a few angry steps to the door. When it opens, as Sans says your name, you realize you weren’t the one to open it.

 

Coming face to face with a skeleton’s ribcage, you think that Sans must have teleported in front of you. Instead, you look up and suddenly feel very, _very_ small.

 

“SANS?” There’s a long silence that stretches over the room, tension thick enough to slice into. You’re too busy staring at the rather tall and flamboyantly dressed skeleton to really see Sans respond.

 

“Yeah, pap?”

 

“IS THIS A HUMAN?” The skeleton’s eyes – Pap, you clarify to yourself, although it must be some kind of nickname – are stuck firmly on you. You don’t know quite what to make of his loud voice or expression. Much like Sans, he’s hard to read.

 

 “Nah…” Sans lies, but even then, you know the taller skeleton knows he's lying in order to make light out of a heavy situation. Deep inside, you feel comforted.

 

“HUMAN!” Pap finally acknowledges you as if you’re a highly functional being capable of more than just staring, his eyes brightening as he smiles. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WOULD CAPTURE YOU, HAD MY BROTHER NOT ALREADY DONE SO. NOW, PREPARE TO FACE ENTRAPMENT! ALONG WITH SPAHGETTE AND PUZZLES!”

 

Not sure whether or not to take the tall skeleton seriously, you threw a look over your shoulder to Sans, feeling very lost. The Skeleton only grinned wider and shrugged as if he were encouraging you to go along with it. Sans didn’t seem like he _wanted_ to hurt you – at least, not at the moment. And Papyrus seemed…. not intently looking for a reason to hurt you. As far as you knew, this was all a prank gone wrong.

 

Then again, remembering San’s malicious smile and dark eye sockets, you very clearly knew there was a real threat if you didn’t comply. Sighing and ignoring the sudden impulse to put your head into your hands, you felt your confusion be drowned out by a more comforting emotion; **determination.**


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Papyrus are having a much needed talk while you watch MTT's latest hit television show. Sans leaves, and Papyrus and you chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay! Finally! *sigh*

Sans and Papyrus are arguing, and to them it’s almost as if you’re not within earshot. That or they really don’t care about your opinion. Either way, you’re getting annoyed and prepared to run again. You don’t _have_ to sit there neutrally on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, watching TV while they talk amongst themselves in the kitchen. You’re actually quite proud you’re not freaking out yet. You’d done nothing but sit here and try and watch TV ever since Sans suggested it.

 

Because you knew you didn’t have much choice.

 

At least, you knew that in this moment, right now, there was no way you’d be leaving. Not unless you could convince both skeletons that you continuing your journey through the underground was the right thing to do. Sans scared you, and as for Papyrus, you weren’t quite sure what to make of the half-crazed skeleton.

 

You couldn’t run away at the moment because of Sans. Maybe you could get away from Papyrus – unless he had magic like Sans, but even then, you weren’t willing to risk it. There was no telling what the two were capable of, and what exactly they might do to you for trying to escape. So for now, you’d continue to watch a square shaped robot desperately try to defuse bombs while cooking a cake and answer questions for a game show at the same time. All the while, you’d continue to lie in denial that you were here of your own will. Not because you had no choice.

 

“BUT SANS, WHAT IF UNDYNE FINDS OUT I LIED TO HER?” Papyrus’ voice drifts over the already loud television, and you can hear the worry in the skeleton’s voice. Whoever this Undyne is, he must care about her opinion a lot. From here, if you lean over, you can see the sweat on the back of Papyrus’ skull.

 

For a moment you feel guilty for putting Papyrus into such a positon. He seems so conflicted – and after overhearing them for the past half hour, you’ve pieced together he’s not such a bad guy. All he wants by turning you in is the recognition he feels he deserves. He’s not so much self-centered but confident. You can tell he not only thinks very highly of himself, but of everyone he’s friends with. Some part of you wants that kind of person in your life; someone who thinks higher of you then you do of yourself.

 

Then you remember how you fell into this situation, and you make a conscious decision to stop feeling so kindly towards him. Despite this, a part of you still feels for him.

 

You don’t hear Sans’ response, but whatever he says seems to calm down Papyrus because the taller skeleton seems to lower his voice and stop sweating. You’re a little disappointed you can’t overhear them anymore, besides small snippets.

 

So far, all you’ve caught was Sans continuously trying to convince Papyrus that while you were a human, you were a ‘good’ human. That made you wonder of the other humans that had fallen here in the past. Toriel had mentioned losing others, but she had never mentioned how many or what kind of people they’d been. Either the skeleton brothers had run into bad humans before, or they’d been raised with the idea all humans were bad. But if that was the case, what was with Sans?

 

There was something _wrong_ with him. From his red magic and vehement insistence that you stay, you’re quite lost on how to feel about the skeleton. He even acted different around his brother. He was less of a ‘evil’ monster, and more of a laid back jokester. You could even make out a few puns from time to time, and Papyrus’ subsequent groans. You giggle, despite the situation, every time.

 

Nearly another half hour passes as you slowly sink into the couch, cuddling further into the nice-smelling blanket, before Sans leaves the kitchen. You’re not quite sure what Papyrus is still doing in the kitchen, but Sans stops at the doorway between the two rooms and gives you an icy grin. You’re fully awake now, and a little scared, to be honest.

 

“i’ll be back. don’t wait up, kid.” He teases you before heading towards the front door and leaving. You watch, and when the door shuts, the house seems a little quieter.

 

“HUMAN?” You’re still staring at the front door when Papyrus interrupts your thoughts. He’s standing in the same place Sans had been a few minutes ago, wringing his hands together. You feel bad, because he looks slightly guilty. “I AM SORRY FOR ALMOST CALLING UNDYNE.”

 

You’re surprised by his apology, and at his prompt staring, you smile nervously. Should you forgive him? He seemed oblivious that you were here against your will, to be honest. From what you heard, Sans had made it out like you’d asked to be protected and that you and him were friends already.

 

“I JUST DON’T FEEL RIGHT NOT TELLING HER.” Papyrus continues, and you feel relieved you don’t have to reply to him. “SHE KEEPS TELLING ME ABOUT HOW ALL WE NEED IS ONE MORE HUMAN. HOW YOU ARE THE KEY TO ALL OF OUR HOPES AND DREAMS, TO UNLOCKING THE BARRIER.”

 

Suddenly, you’re very aware that Papyrus must not know they very obvious reason Undyne ‘needs’ you. Papyrus doesn’t seem like he could hurt a fly – yet he must not know that sending you to Undyne would be sending you to your death. He’s too innocent to truly understand. Maybe that’s what that silent threat was in Sans’ eyes, when he gave you that icy grin before he left. You understood now.

 

You couldn’t tell Papyrus, only hope that he would continue to trust Sans.

 

“Thank you.” You finally tell the Skeleton, giving him a warm, rewarding smile. He looks down, and a light orange dusts his cheekbones. “I really appreciate it, Papyrus. And… Papyrus?”

 

He looks up, and you can’t help but smile wider at how cute and flustered he seems. “YES, HUMAN?”

 

Even though you’re certain Sans told him your name, you’re endeared by the way he keeps calling you human. “We can be friends, if you want.” God knows you need all the friends you can get.

 

His entire face lights up, and he stands straight, taller. His frame nearly fits the entire doorway, and now you understand why so much of the furniture is comically big. “OF COURSE YOU WOULD WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME. FEAR NOT, HUMAN.” Suddenly he poses, and despite a lack of wind, his cape waves dramatically. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE YOUR FRIEND.”

 

You laugh, and the bubbling warmth inside of you feels refreshing despite everything. You feel **determined**.

 


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans comes home late at night with a present.
> 
> In the morning, Papyrus makes Spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous, so here. I'll probably have to go back and fix it, but I really don't care because it's one in the morning and I'm bone tired.

When you wake up, you wake up with the feeling of a body on top of your own, warm skeletal fingers dancing on the back of your neck. You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch, on your stomach, because one of the two brothers is on top of you, and you’re about to let loose a blood curdling scream when you feel a sudden non-corporeal force keeping your mouth shut. The person on top of you hushes you with a chuckle, and there’s the sound of plastic rustling before they seem to find what they’re looking for.

 

All you can see is the armrest of the couch, the light and sound of the TV filling the room. Your heart is racing, and your body feels ready to fight or flight. You can feel the smooth fabric of something settling on your neck, their fingers every so often brushing skin. It’s soft and comfortable, except you suddenly realize what it is and who’s on top of you. Struggling, you only get so far before his bony heels press into your sides roughly, the one hand propping him up by sitting palm down on your upper back digging into your skin. You would’ve cried out, but your you still can’t open your mouth.

 

Stilling, you bite down your pride and shamefully allow him to put the collar around your neck. It doesn’t take him long until it’s fastened on, and just to be sure he sticks two fingers between the fabric and your neck to make sure it’s not too tight. As if he cares.

 

“good girl,” He teases you at your forced compliance before sitting up completely straight. Suddenly, you realize you can speak again.

 

“Get _off_ of me.” You don’t scream or speak above a whisper because you know he isn’t afraid to hurt you if you wake up Papyrus. He only hums and you can almost see the bastard’s face; A shit-eating grin and bright, festive lights in his eye sockets.

 

“and if i don’t want to?” He asks, voice full of mirth.

 

“Just get _off_. I let you put the damn collar on!” You bite out while shifting, and he slides off of you, now standing beside the couch. You sit up, and you can’t help it. Your hands immediately go for the soft pressure around your neck. But before your hands can get there, they’re stopped by Sans’ red magic. He stands there, hands in his pockets, glowering.

 

“don’t touch it.” He snaps, and you pull your hands down to your side when he lets you. You were only going to get a feel for it – it wasn’t like you would take it off. Not yet, at least. Eventually, when you got away, the first thing you’d do was take off the damned thing.

 

For a long moment, nothing happens, and you both stare at one another. Sans is wearing his blue hoodie and gym shorts, although his slippers are absent. The shoulders of his hoodie are slightly wet from the snow outside, a plastic bag full of whatever he must’ve picked up in one of his skeletal hands. You wonder what he sees when he stares at you in turn, and you hope you at least look intimidating with your glare. Then again, you are wearing a collar. For all you know, it’s pink and has a bow on it.

 

“Happy?” You ask, sarcastically. You may be scared of what exactly he has in mind for you, but you’re not going to show it. If anything, you’re determined to fight every moment of your stay here.

 

“you have no idea.” He winks, and you feel disgusted. Instead, you huff and pull the blankets back over yourself and lie back down. Knowing your confrontation was over, Sans sighed, shoulders seeming to relax as you pointedly ignored him in favor of watching the TV. It’s as if he expects you to say something more, one last thing, but when you don’t, he just shrugs.

 

“sorry to have _rattled your bones_.” Is all he says, smiling, before leaving you. You think his smile seemed a little forced. It doesn’t matter. You watch, suspiciously, as he goes up the stairs and to the room all the way to the right. It’s not until his door shuts behind him that you relax. Maybe now, you could go back to sleep; although, you don’t feel quite as safe now that Sans is home.

 

 

 

 

When the smell of food hits your nose, you’re up light a lightning bolt, despite remembering where you are. Your stomach seems just as eager as you are, because as you sit up it rumbles loudly enough that you blush in response. The living room is now brightly lit, sunlight filtering in from the window behind the couch, the sounds of someone cooking rather vigorously coming from the kitchen. Not even the loud sounds from a news TV show are enough to drown it out.

 

Someone chuckles from besides you when your stomach growls, and you turn to see Sans sitting at the other end of the couch, a book in hand. Immediately you sober, giving the skeleton a hard glare as he speaks.

 

“what can i say? you tickled my _funny bone_.” He shrugs and looks back to his book, which reads on the side, “1001 skeleton puns”. He’s got a pen and highlighter besides him, his normal smile seeming more focused as he reads over the contents. You’re not surprised, and decide to tease him about originality later. It wasn’t much in the way of defiance, but it was something.

 

Papyrus chooses this moment to pop his head out of the kitchen, a chef’s hat and apron on top of his already hilarious outfit. Well, not exactly hilarious. It fit him, and you couldn’t imagine anyone else ever making armor and domestic clothing work together. He sighed when he saw Sans, but when his eyes landed on you, they widened perceptually.

 

“HUMAN! I HOPE YOU HAVE BROUGHT YOUR APPITITE FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MASTER SPEGHETTIORE, AM PREPARING FOR YOU THE GRANDEST OF MEALS!” You smile, because why not? Papyrus is nothing short of adorable, and innocent for all intents and purposes. As far as you can tell, he sees this whole situation as protecting a friend. At your smile, his own expression seems to brighten, and you ignore the way Sans looks at you from the corner of your eyes. “DID YOU SLEEP WELL, HUMAN? I SEE SANS HAS ALREADY EXPLAINED THE PLAN TO YOU.”

 

His eyes flick down to the collar, and you stiffen slightly. Shifting nervously, you reply, “Uh… yeah. The jist of it, at least.” You lie, because while you can guess part of what’s going on, you’re certain Sans will fill you in on the rest later. “And I slept fine, Papyrus. Thank you.” The taste in your mouth is bitter when you lie to the kind skeleton, but you don’t have much choice. “How about you?”

 

“I SLEPT WONDERFULLY! I KNEW I’D NEED MY REST, IN ORDER TO COOK YOU A SPLENDID BREAKFEST THAT ANY FRIEND OF MINE DESERVES!” He struck a pose, and once again, his cape flowed in the air without any kind of current. “NYEH HEH HEH HEH!”

 

He went back into the kitchen, leaving you and Sans once more. While you went back to watching a MTT TV show about a forbidden love between a human and monster, you did your best to ignore the way Sans was staring at you. Staying in denial about your reason being here was getting harder with the constant reminder around your throat. You struggled to not touch it, but knew the consequences weren’t worth it.

 

“thank you.” Sans finally huffs out. Why is he thanking you? Then, you remember your decision from yesterday to keep Papyrus out of whatever was happening between you and Sans. You pointedly ignore him, certain you weren’t doing it for him. Papyrus loved Sans, and even though you were certain the skeleton wouldn’t believe you even if you _did_ tell him, you had no intention to hurt Papyrus that way if he did find out you were telling the truth. Filled with **determination** , you settled further into the couch, leaning away from Sans.


	9. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is going insane...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The feedback for this story is just amazing! Here's a much shorter filler chapter.

Sans knew he was going insane by the third reset.

 

On the very first run through, it’d been nothing short of pleasant. He didn’t know anything strange was going on, all he did know was that this kid, Frisk, needed safety. They needed a _family,_ and when they came out of the ruins, face tear stained and shaking, Sans took it upon himself to care for the small human. Convincing Papyrus hadn’t taken too long, and when Undyne finally came around after a month and – surprisingly - made friends with them at Papyrus’ insistence, Sans knew everything was going to be okay.

 

It wasn’t until they got sick years later and died that Sans woke up back in his bed, his brother yelling at him from the bottom of the stairs to move his lazybones and get to work.

 

That reset had been one of the worsts, and apart from the first and the third, was one of the only few he actually remembered from the beginning. He’d been so angry at them, so frightened, that when they stepped out of the ruins covered in dust, and then killed his brother, he’d killed them. He didn’t understand why he was thrown back in time whenever he or Frisk died. All he knew when he woke up again for the third time was that something was wrong.

 

He didn’t think back to his blurry past until the twentieth time. At least, back then, he still had the clarity to count each reset. Now, he doesn’t even know how long he’s been at it. Only that he’s getting tired. But when it came to his past, he’s always blamed the accident at Alphys’ lab that happened five years before the resets started. He doesn’t even _remember_ what happened, only that it was something _bad_ and that he’d lost someone.

 

That was all he remembered, and he was lucky to have that much. Most memories of his years before that had been torn from him, and when he came stumbling home to find Papyrus watching TV, his brother seemed ignorant that something – _someone_ – was missing. So Sans said nothing, and quit his job as an assistant at the lab the next day. Later, he would find that no one even knew an accident had ever occurred besides him and Alphys. Even then, not even she would know what really happened.

 

A few hundred resets ago is when he started changing. It was when he saw them go through the entire run without harming a single monster par one. Papyrus. It wasn’t until the very end, when he confronted Frisk before the King’s chambers, that they taunted him, eyes a lethal red.

 

He killed them again and again that time, until they killed him.

 

After that reset, he killed Frisk every time they stepped out of the ruins. Dust covered or not, it didn’t matter to the skeleton. It was when he killed them while they were begging, uncovered with innocent dust, that his magic short circuited and changed to the very color of Frisk’s soul. He hadn’t cared much for it – he’d stopped caring all together by then, anyways.

 

He continued to kill Frisk. Again and again and again, so much that it became habit to vault out of bed upon every reset and wait for them before the doors to the ruins. One time, he even blasted the doors open and found them in the midst of killing Toriel. He’d made sure they didn’t die for a long time until he was satisfied.

 

Before the mindless killing, he remembered every reset had its quirks. Despite the obvious change of whether Frisk would be kind, murderous, or in-between, there were other things. Sometimes some monsters would have a sense of Deja vu. Sometimes Frisk seemed to have a vague memory of the resets, even. Or someone acted different, or said something they hadn’t before. One time Frisk even had blonde hair!

 

He’d always look out for the little quirks, and found himself amused. At least, until he found you trudging through the snow. You’d been something _new._ Immediately he knew he couldn’t kill you – he couldn’t let _anything_ harm you. You were the only hope he’d had since the third reset. So what did he do? Well, he very well couldn’t blame himself for acting a little… off. He’d done nothing but murder the same child hundreds of times over and over again, and it was only fair he didn’t know how to handle suddenly having to care for a timeline again.

 

It wasn’t until Frisk didn’t show up that he really began to hope. Maybe there wouldn’t be a reset this time. Maybe now, with you here safe in his sight, things could stay the way they were. He could care for you, and actually grow old for once. Papyrus could actually advance in his cooking, and he’d be damned if he let you fall sick. You were too precious.

 

He didn’t know how to fix himself, however. He knew if he’d met you sooner in the resets, that maybe things between the two of you could be better. He’d care more, and would have much less practice at being the sadistic masochistic killer he was. He wanted you to like him, because he was already in love with the idea of you.


	10. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Papyrus run into MK, or better known as Monster Kid.

Snowdin is a small town from what Papyrus shows you, and it’s quite cozy despite being settled in between nothing but snow and the Ruins. You’re immensely enjoying your day so far, having left not long after Breakfast with Papyrus for an impromptu tour. Sans had left without eating anything, claiming he had work to do, to which Papyrus proudly claimed he must have finally been rubbing off on his Lazybones of a brother. You’d bit back a smile through the entire exchange, and had found Papyrus’ breakfast spaghetti to be good, despite its quirks.

 

The only downside so far, was the leash that stretched from the collar around your neck to Papyrus’ hands. It was embarrassing to be introduced to the colorful folk of Snowdin as the Skeleton brother’s newest addition, but after you realized you could still act like you had a mind of your own, it didn’t seem too bad. You shook monster’s hands, told them your name, and smiled when they complimented you as an adorable pet. Okay, so there was a small upside to this whole deal. At least people didn’t know you were a human – that was _very_ reassuring, knowing from Toriel’s account that being a human in the Underground didn’t bode well for your health.

 

Papyrus seemed to blush alongside of you, playing the part very well for a new pet owner. Almost too well, you thought, when he started petting your head even out of sight of other monsters. Deciding to shrug it off, you couldn’t imagine hurting Papyrus’ feelings, so you went along with him. All in all, it was a good morning, and you thought that it could have been worse.

 

When you and Papyrus are on the edge of town, about to leave for a “BRISK MORNING STROLL THROUGH THE SNOW”, you bump into a small yellow monster. Unfortunately, the monster falls face first into a snow bank, and you notice that without having any arms, they're having a hard time pulling themselves out.

 

“MONSTER KID?” Papyrus is still as you race forward, not thinking twice as your hands find the monster’s shoulders and pull them out of the snow. Luckily the leash accommodates and Papyrus steps forward enough for you to do so. You’re not surprised Papyrus already knows them, but you are a little surprised he doesn’t do more to help. Maybe without any arms, everybody was used to the kid falling down a lot.

 

“Yo!” The kid seems to jump up once they’re on their feet, bright eyes turning to you and Papyrus. “Pap!” They yell, running forward and headbutting Papyrus affectionately. You notice the kid barely reaches Papyrus’ knees as the skeleton smiles fondly and rubs the monster kid on the head with his free hand. When the kid looks up, he gives Papyrus a serious look. “Have you seen Undyne today? She beat up anybody new?”

 

Papyrus looks over to you for a moment, before looking back down to the kid. However, before the skeleton can speak, the kid turns to look at you. It runs over, looking up at you with awe in its eyes.

 

“Yo! Who’s this, Pap?” Papyrus, as expected, poses dramatically and explains.

 

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE DECIDED TO GET A NEW PET. THIS IS Y/N, AND SHE IS BOTH MINE AND SANS. I WAS JUST TAKING HER ON A WALK.” The kid seems to look you up and down before leaning over to Papyrus conspiratorially and whispering to him.

 

“Is she the one who pulled me out of the snow?” Papyrus flushes and so do you, and you hold out your hand to introduce yourself.

 

“Hi, I’m y/n.” When the kid just stares at your hand, you realize you’re being insensitive and retract your arm. “It’s good to meet you.” You smile, and feel lucky. Thankfully, to the residents of Snowdin – or maybe to monsters in general – pets can be as talkative as they want. You suppose that explains the amount of dogs, but maybe down here dogs are people. Inwardly shaking your head, you decide not to question it.

 

“I’m Monster Kid, or MK for short.” The kid says, before smiling. “Can she do any cool tricks Papyrus?”

 

You squish down your anger as much as you can and give Papyrus a probing look, daring him to make this any worse than it is. _Yeah Papyrus. Can I?_

“…NOT YET. BUT I’M CERTAIN, AT MY INSTRUCTION, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN TEACH HER MANY ASSORTMENTS OF TRICKS IN THE FUTURE.” The kid just shrugs, seeming satisfied by the answer. You deflate, feeling relieved that he wasn’t expecting any more of you. You weren’t sure how much more you could take of this – of being degraded by a whole people and being turned into a pet.

 

“Well, I gotta go. See ya, pap! See ya, y/n!” And with that, the scrawny kid ran into town. You and Papyrus watched him for a few moments, and you giggled when you saw him fall back into the snow once more.

 

You turn to Papyrus, crossing your arms against the cold. You wish you had something warmer than jeans and a blouse, having refused Papyrus’ offer of one of Sans’ hoodies. You’d rather freeze, which seeing as how things was going, was likely to happen. The skeleton only continues to watch after MK, before noticing your stare.

 

“YES?”

 

“I was just, uh, wondering…” You flush, and you swear it’s because of the cold. “Is there anything you like to do for fun, Papyrus?” Now that you’ve met all of the inhabitants of Snowdin, you weren’t quite sure what the skeleton had planned next. For a while it seemed he didn’t either, but suddenly, you watch as an idea starts to unfurl in his mind.

 

“I KNOW! HOW ABOUT YOU HELP ME RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES?” He laughs, and strikes a pose once more. “YES! I COULD TEST YOUR INTELLIGENCE AND I COULD HAVE YOU SOLVE MY PUZZLES AND HELP ME MAKE THEM BETTER!”

 

Smiling at his enthusiasm, you let him tug you along through the snow, filled with **determination.**


	11. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gauntlet of Terror is pretty terrifying, you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter! But, eh. You guys'll enjoy it, nevertheless. 
> 
> I hope.

You were falling in love with Papyrus.

 

Not the “God I wanna fuck you and get married with you and constantly think only of you” kind of love. No, it was more the “You are the most precious thing I have ever known in my entire life and I will do whatever it takes to protect you” kind of love. As the afternoon marched on, your body quickly warmed up to the snow with the sheer amount of puzzles Papyrus seemed to have lying around. In fact, there seemed no end to the puzzles as Papyrus constantly thought up new ones or remembered old ones lying about somewhere out in the forest.

 

You were soon learning more about Papyrus as you continued to have fun, laughing with him and helping him ‘fine-tune’ his puzzles. He was just too damn precious. He was confident in a way that wasn’t self-absorbed but endearing, and caring in a way that no one – that you could remember – cared about you, aside from Toriel. He said nothing but praise and good things about and to you, coaching you through even when you knew exactly what to do. Papyrus _believed_ in you, in a way you had wanted Toriel to. Maybe not for the right thing, but he seemed just… well, confident. About everything and everyone. So certain things would turn out good. You wish you had that kind of confidence, to be perfectly honest.

 

So far, the puzzles had all been fun and good natured, until you started to near back towards Snowdin. As you walked across the bridge, Papyrus having run ahead to set up more puzzles, you came to a stop when you spotted the skeleton at the end of the bridge. Only, there were a few things sitting – hanging, really – between the two of you. Below the bridge, flames licked upwards from a metallic cauldron, a large spearhead and cannon pointed your way. Above the bridge hung a mace, another spear, and… was that a _dog?_

“Uh, Pap?” The Skeleton in question just stared at you evenly across the bridge. However, you could spot him sweating, as he seemed to be thinking of what to say. He didn’t _want_ to hurt you, right? But so far, you’d challenged every one of his puzzles and been fine. But none of them had looked _deadly,_ par for the invisible electricity maze where Papyrus had forgotten to give _you_ the orb, and the grey and white tile puzzle that hadn’t worked.

 

Luckily, the stare-down was broken when a familiar short skeleton appeared from behind Papyrus.

 

“if I didn’t know any better, i’d say you look like a real _bonehead_ right now, pap.” As usual, Sans was smiling, and there was no real tell as to what he was thinking or what he was up to. Only, you noted, he was sweating. Was he nervous? You’d only hope that somehow this ended with Papyrus not activating this puzzle. Or jape? You thought this one might be a jape.

 

“SANS, STOP PLAGUING MY LIFE WITH INCIDENTAL PUNS!” Papyrus turned to his brother, and if you didn’t know better, he looked relieved. In fact, you considered that  _all_  of youlooked relieved as Papyrus turned around with his back to you, sighing. “BUT PERHAPS THIS JAPE WOULD BE TOO EASY FOR THE HUMAN. SHE HAS DONE EXCELLENTLY THUS FAR, AND I WOULD ONLY ASSUME SHE WOULD CONTINUE TO DO SO.”

 

“besides, it’s a little _bone chilling_ out here, don’t you think, pap? she looks half frozen.” Despite the pun, Sans is right. You’re freezing, and when Papyrus turns around to consider you, he seems to notice this too.

 

“HUMAN, WOULD YOU LIKE TO RETURN HOME? I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN COOK YOU DINNER!” You smile at the offer, before starting to walk across the bridge with your arms wrapped around your sides. You're not so scared of this trap anymore, knowing Papyrus wouldn't activate it. However, you can't help but wonder if that dog will be okay.

 

“Can I cook Papyrus? I’d like you make spaghetti for _you_  tonight.”

 

The resulting blush from Papyrus makes you smile wider, as you ignore Sans’ probing look.

 

 

 

 

Later that night, after a successful evening of moderately cooked spaghetti on your behalf – “hey this isn’t half bad,” and “WOWIE!!! THIS IS AS GOOD AS UNDYNE'S!” – you're lying on the couch while the two skeletons are asleep in their beds. Deciding now is as good a time as any, you reach up to your neck, feeling the soft leather of the collar. It’s simplistic and doesn’t seem to have any designing features, for what you can feel. A tiny part of you is disappointed, while a much bigger, rational, part of you is relieved. Remembering the red leash hanging by the front door, you wonder if the color of the collar matches. Maybe tomorrow morning you could ask to take a shower, and get a good look of it in the mirror.

 

It isn’t long until you're asleep, the sound of Mettaton’s metallic singing and the snow piling up outside in your ears.          

 

You dream however, and it’s not very pleasant.                                                        


	12. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a great idea for the plot of this story. I think you guys will like it. <3

It’s dark. Everything is dark, despite the fact you can see as clearly as if it were midday. The shadows in the cavern lick at the rocky walls, what light you remember having fallen from the ceiling no longer there. The golden flowers you remember once cushioning your fall are wilted and they break apart into dust at the lightest of touches. All you hear is the empty thump of your own heart, and when you look down, you can see the red outline of your soul on your chest, beating in time with the sound.

 

You’re terrified.

 

Not sure where you are, you walk forward into the darkness, wishing there was some form of light. Despite the fact you can see fine without it, you know you might’ve felt a little better with it. You follow the path you remember, pausing under a carved stone archway that leads into the room where you first met Flowey. Someone’s sobbing.

 

“ _Please… please don’t… please don’t kill me… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry._ ”

 

Walking forward, a small shaft of light falls onto the curled form of a white furred monster. They’re crying, begging really, and you crouch down and reach out a hand to console them. It breaks your heart because they sound and look like a child. You don’t know what a child is doing here, begging to live, but you're determined to do what you can.

 

When your hand brushes their white soft fur, they jump, uncurling from themselves to look up at you with a tear stained face. You can’t help but be stricken by how alike they are to Toriel, and you wonder who they are. Immediately their sorrow turns into apathy, their blank eyes staring you down as they grow still. They don’t even breathe.

 

“ _Oh. It’s you.”_ They almost sound disappointed, and your heart thuds painfully in your chest. As it does this, they look at your soul, lips curling into a snarl. _“What a pitifully small soul. I can’t wait to rip it out of your chest.”_

Before your eyes they morph, and it isn’t long until your looking up at a large version of Flowey. Scrambling backwards, you watch as Flowey’s face turns gruesome, long vines covered in thorns ripping from the ground to settle around you. It’s a horrible sight, staring down the monster – at least, you _think_ Flowey is a monster. You still have no idea.

 

“ _back off, pal._ ” One of Flowey’s vines had been reaching for your legs, but before they get very far, a familiar voice comes from behind you. Giant Flowey visibly shrinks away and hisses, curling in on themselves. If you didn’t know any better, the Giant Flowey looked frightened. “ _unless you want to have a bad time._ ”

 

At that, the flower seems to vanish into the ground, burrowing away with a snarl and frown. You’ve never felt more relieved in your life, and you stand up while brushing yourself off. When you turn around to thank Sans – something you thought you’d _never_ do – you stop.

 

“ _what’s wrong, kid?_ ” The skeleton’s grin is eccentric, but much less comforting than you thought it would be. There’s dust all over his hands and body and old red stains that you’re certain isn’t ketchup that’s covering his clothing. “ _you look sick._ ”

 

You don’t know what to say, mainly because Sans doesn’t look like someone who just saved your life should. He takes a step forward, and the way his eyes flicker to your soul is menacing. You flinch and step back in response, wrapping your arms around yourself.

 

 _“that’s a pretty soul you got there.”_ He compliments, and you watch as a phantasmal red tongue slides across his teeth, giving you chills. He looks up from your soul, winking at you. “ _i b_ _et it’d look so much better dripping in your blood. wanna find out?_ ”

 

And then Sans is reaching for you – hand outstretched and glowing the same eerie red as his left eye. You can’t move and you stand stock still as his fingers hover over your soul. You can’t scream either for some strange reason, and you can no longer hear your pulse in your ears. Your soul has stopped beating as well, Sans’ eyes glued to the red heart.

 

You watch in horror as his dust covered fingers finally close in on your soul -


	13. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans wakes you up, but soon you realize you weren't the only one to have a nightmare...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter's pretty lame, but, here's some fluff and bonding time and auhfufd

There’s a firm grip on your arm, hard phalanges digging into your skin as they shake you none too gently. You immediately bolt up, a sudden hand pressing your mouth shut to keep you from yelling. You’re heaving as you try to breathe properly, the bony hands leaving you as you hunch over on the couch. You knew it was Sans when you saw him staring at you, but right now you couldn’t care less. You’ve just woken up from a horrible dream, and the thought of looking at Sans right now isn’t very appealing.

 

“you okay, pal?” He asks, and you swear there’s some actuall worry in his gruff voice. That, and you notice, he sounds strained. Once you’re breathing normally again you look up to the skeleton, noticing the way he's sweating and how there were lines under his eye sockets. Despite being a skeleton that Papyrus claimed slept most of the day, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. You wondered if you looked much better, having been too frightened of the monster standing before you to really get some good sleep.

 

“Yeah – I, uh… It was just a nightmare.” You supply, smiling frailly in return to his own forced grin. There’s a long awkward pause where he just regards you, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He’s wearing nothing but those gym shorts and a white t-shirt, and you appreciate the fact you can actually see the lines of his ribs for once. You may not like him very much, but you were _very_ interested on how a skeleton could be _alive._

 

He coughs, his smile much more mirthful as you blush and look back to his face. “see something you like, sweetheart?”

 

“No – I – shut up, Sans.” You finally sputter out, glaring at him half-heartedly. You deserved it, being caught staring at his chest. Relaxing, you decide to try and strike up a conversation. “Why are you down here anyways?”

 

“i, uh…” He scratches the back of his skull, and you notice he starts sweating again. There’s shadows running across his face, and you can tell he’s trying not to remember why.

 

“Nightmare?” You finally ask, smiling sadly. It was ironic, really. “I’m sorry.”

 

“why are you sorry? it wasn’t your fault, pal.” The way he forces his grin, however, says something else. Had his nightmare been about you? How so?

 

“I’m empathizing with you, numbskull.” You tease, wiggling your toes into the warm comforter. The air of the house was chilling, and you were glad the skeleton brothers had plenty of blankets to spare despite not having much in the ways of a heater. Maybe they didn’t feel the hot and cold the way you do.

 

“hey, what can i say?” He shrugs, and you feel something inside of you die because you can hear the pun before he even says it. “things like that – they go _right through me_.”

 

“Oh my god. Sans, please.” You groan, pushing your face into the blanket.

 

“aw, c’mon. didn’t tickle your _funny bone_?” He asks, and you can hear his grin from his voice as you try to hide your laughter. “i thought it was pretty _humerus_.”

 

“Sans, _please stop._ ” You plead through the blanket, refusing to look up at the skeleton. You were certain there’d be a furious blush across your skin, and you just couldn’t _stop smiling…_

“don’t be like that, giving me the _cold shoulder_.” He pauses, before continuing. “ _Patella_ you what, I’ll stop.”

 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, finally looking up with a toothy grin and a flushed face. _God those puns were_ so _bad…_

Sans was blushing now too, a light blue dusting his cheekbones. “Just stop being so _Sternum_ -”

 

Before he can get much further, however, there’s a knock at the front door.

 

Immediately your smile fades and Sans’ becomes forced. You have the decency to wonder who it might be at this time of night, but Sans just stares into the empty space by your head. It isn’t long however, after another timid sounding knock, that he puts a finger up to his mouth and shushes you. There’s no warning then, when he reaches out and grabs your shoulder tightly –

 

Suddenly your somewhere else, and everything is _spinning._

“sorry, sweetheart.” He apologizes softly, as you double over yourself and try not to throw up your dinner. His hand soothes over your back before going to stroke your hair. “should of warned you first. just stay quiet, kay?”

 

And with that, Sans is gone.

 

A few moments later you gather yourself enough to stand properly, taking in deep breaths. Looking around, you can tell by the carpet and walls that you’re still in the skeleton brother’s home. By the looks of the trash tornado and messy clothes, you know it’s Sans’ room. You blush slightly, before wondering why he brought you here. He wasn’t here anymore though, but you could hear steps outside the door to your right.

 

Deciding to eavesdrop, you do something Sans would probably skin you for, and creak the bedroom door open, filled with **determination.**


	14. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has a "friendly little chat" with our favorite royal scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, look! Some of the ever elusive plot has appeared! Quick - catch it!

When you peak through Sans’ bedroom door, the monster you see Sans talking to is one you’ve never seen before. They remind you of a yellow dinosaur, hunched over while wearing a lab coat. Their face is flushed as far as you can tell, but you assume it’s from the cold. They were sort of like a reptile, right? They’re cold-blooded, you remember.

 

Sans is staring them down evenly, and it’s the first time he _isn’t_ wearing a smile. Not even a fake one. The look is unsettling on a skeleton that goes so far to look so happy all the time, and you can tell the other monster seems just as uneasy as they shift in the doorway, half in and half out of the snowy outdoors. You feel bad for them, because you couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be on the receiving end of the pure look of apathy Sans is giving them.

 

“alphys. what’re you doing here?” Sans’ voice is more monotone than ever, and the other monster – Alphys – jumps at the sound of it.

 

“I – I know she’s here. I wanted t-to warn you.” She rubs her clawed hands together, and you can tell she’s terrified. Of Sans or something else, it’s hard to tell. Or maybe it’s her natural disposition, you think. What concerns you most right now, however, is that this monster seems to know you exist and that you’re here. Would she tell this ‘Undyne’ you’d been hearing about?

 

“warn me about what?” Sans asks, stiffening. He’s probably thinking the same thing you are – did Alphys tell someone?

 

“I – I’ve been watching her, Sans. E-even in t-the ruins.” Alphys swallows nervously, looking down in what you assume is shame. You feel bad for the monster. “I won’t t-tell anyone. P-promise!”

 

Both you and Sans relax, and you watch as Sans’ smile comes back, even if it’s very small. "She d-doesn’t deserve to be killed…” Alphys continues in a very small voice. You shudder, reminded of what exactly would happen if you or Sans, or Papyrus, or now Alphys wasn’t careful. This whole Underground place – every monster wanted you _dead._ You still didn’t know why, but you’d gathered that much.

 

“B-but Undyne’s going to f-find out sooner or later.” Alphys continues, and the small reprieve drops like a stone. “You c-can hide it from Asgore but e-eventually…” Her voice becomes so small, and you understand why. Sans is staring out into space again, and his eye sockets have gone dark.

 

“i know.” It’s all he says.

 

There’s a painful silence, until suddenly, Sans comes back to life and is looking at Alphys once again with something akin to disgust.

 

“you still haven’t done anything or told anyone about them, have you?” Alphys shrinks back, and you’re confused. What could this seemingly timid and harmless monster be hiding? Sans makes a noise close to clicking his tongue, before sighing. “alphys, you have to let them go.”

 

“ _How_ do you e-even know about them?” Alphys whispers, and you barely catch it, having to lean forward to hear. She looks like someone who's having a close call with death – fear stricken and immobilized, having prepared for the worst.

 

“do something about it alphys, or _i_ will.” His left eye glows for a moment, and Alphys gasps when she sees the threat display. You’re scared to see Sans act so terrifying, shivering from the suddenly colder air of the room. “got it?”

 

Alphys is silent, before she says; “I’ll be back tomorrow. Mettaton wants to visit Papyrus anyways and I need to talk to the human.”

 

Sans scoffs and watches impassively as she turns around, clawed hand coming to rest on the door knob. Your heart breaks for her, because you can tell she’s only trying to do what’s right. She’s not the bad guy in this situation, Sans is. The skeleton is acting like an asshole, and you _want_ to speak to her. Maybe she would finally tell you what’s going on. _Maybe she could help you._

 

“You’ve changed, Sans. I d-don’t know why, b-but you’re _different._ ”

 

“bye, alphys.” His dismissal makes her flinch, and she leaves. The door shuts behind the timid monster softly, and you suddenly realize how quiet it is without the sound of the conversation and the howling of the snowstorm blowing in through the door. The TV has turned off by now, and you’re wondering what’s next.

 

Sans sighs, and you can visibly watch the tension leave his shoulders. He turns to have his back to you, and you decide now might be a good time to close the door while he doesn’t know you're watching. Backing up slightly and shutting the door, you feel your insides settle. Good – he didn’t see. You back away, going to go sit on the bed, only you run into something _very_ solid that wasn’t there a few moments ago.

 

“you just _want_ to get on my bad side, don’t you?”


	15. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans finally have a much needed discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's twice as long as my normal ones - hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> And don't think this doesn't mean sans isn't still... well, y'know...

Sans is tired. Tired enough not to care for a pun about being _bone_ _tired_ and instead stares levelly at you. Maybe cracking a joke wouldn’t be best right now. You look exhausted and fed up, and he’s certain you’re close to your breaking point. He doesn’t blame you – you’d been nothing but led from place to place in the most degrading manner possible for the past day.

 

Rolling his shoulders, Sans knows you’re afraid. He’s put down at the sight of the fear in your eyes, and after getting off on that very same look from Frisk so many times – it just doesn’t work with you. He’s had so much practice playing the part of the villain the next words out of his mouth come naturally to him.

 

“i should punish you,” He inwardly cringes, but a darker part of him is just so carefree that he doesn’t show any remorse on the surface. He hates this. He hates having turned into this soulless _monster_ that does nothing but lash out. He _wants_ to be better – he wants to be the skeleton he once was, because maybe then he wouldn’t be so fucked up. Maybe then you could be friends.

 

“Don’t you fucking _touch_ me.” You snap, and Sans tries to fight his anger by releasing it in a sigh, sitting down onto his mattress. Why is he even still talking to you? You should both be asleep – then he’s reminded of _his_ nightmare, watching you die over and over again at Frisk’s hands – but he’s too afraid to dream again.

 

“whatever.” He shrugs, and stares off into space. He’s too busy thinking about what to do next. Maybe he could go to Grillby’s. That is, after checking in on Pap and making sure you were tucked in. Then, realizing that when he went shopping the other day all he grabbed was the leash and collar, he looks back up to you. He’s about to suggest the two of you go shopping tomorrow to get you some things, but he stops when he notices you’re barely keeping it together.

 

“Please – _Sans._ ” It’s all you say, and there’s so much venom and frustration in your voice that it breaks the skeleton’s heart. On the surface, however, his smile only becomes forced as his eye-sockets go dark. “Tell me what’s going on. All I know is everyone wants me _dead,_ and here you are treating me like I’m some sort of – of _pet._ I j-just… I can’t even _remember_ my home. Or my family, or whatever it is waiting for me but I know there’s _someone_ or _something_ on the surface for me and I just want to go home. Please Sans, I’m _tired_ -” You were slowly beginning to grow louder throughout your frustrated tears, only now, Sans is standing before you.

 

He teleported, having wasted magic just to cross three feet – he really _is_ lazy – and is reaching to put one of your hands between his bony ones. His eyes keep to your smooth flesh, his phalanges running across the surface. He’s mesmerized, mainly because he hasn’t really _touched_ a human in who knows how long, and you feel so _warm_ and _alive._

 

“i’m sorry.” He clears his throat, because his voice fails him and breaks when he apologizes. He doesn’t dare look up at you, too afraid, too proud to go back now. The darker part of him feels _revolted_ that those words left his mouth, but the lighter part of Sans – the Sans he wants to be again – is relieved. “you’ve been through a lot lately, huh pal?”

 

You don’t say anything, and all Sans can imagine being on your face is contempt, disgust, or pity. He doesn’t want pity.

 

“i… i’ve seen so many humans die in the underground… so many were my friends,” It isn’t a lie, but it’s as close as he’ll come to telling you the truth. Sans is literally breaking right now, trying his damn hardest not to collapse fully. He just stays centered on the feel of your warm hand in his own, trying not to wonder why you haven’t pulled away yet. “i was – _am_ so tired _._ i don’t want to see another person die.”

 

“But why?” It’s all you say, and for a moment he doesn’t understand what you’re asking. Your voice is so soft and gentle he _has_ to look up at your face. His eyes are wide and his smile is gone because when he sees that your face is full of nothing but sadness and frustration he knows this is good - a strong forward step in the right direction. Your anger isn’t directed at him anymore and he can see that you understand, somewhat. It makes his insides _burst_ with warmth and he wants to do nothing but cry – only he doesn’t. There’s still that part of himself that's close to the surface, the part he’s afraid would snap you in half at any moment.

 

“do you know anything about the war?” He asks, tugging your hand and leading you over to the bed. He lets go of you despite how much it pains him, and pushes off the dirty clothes and joke and quantum physics books off the bed, leaving a full sized mattress covered in probably the only unstained fabric in the room. He sits down and you follow suit, letting him take hold of both your hands now.

 

“No.” You finally respond. “I mean, back on the surface there’s a lot of superstition about monsters, but nothing that really proves their existence.”

 

“i thought you didn’t remember anything about up there.” He raises an eyebrow in the only way a skeleton can, chuckling when you watch him do so with amazement. Eventually, when you catch yourself staring, he chuckles once again as you blush. He was pretty sure you were doing it out of habit now – having blushed so many times already.

 

He was starting to find it cute – endearing, even.

 

“I – I don’t.” You supply, frowning. “I remember facts and things, but not anything about my personal life. It’s… frustrating.” He jolts down a mental note to tell Alphys, hoping with the scientist’s help he can return your memories. Another part of him doesn’t want you to remember, so that you won’t be encouraged to return to whoever is waiting for you on the surface. It’s a selfish thought, but he prefers it that way.

 

“well, there was this war between humans and monsters,” He begins, crossing his legs and facing you. “a long, long time ago. before anyone was born – except asgore and the queen. the humans were afraid of monsters and of the power they might want by killing humans for their souls. when a monster has a human soul in their possession, they become _very_ powerful.”

 

He remembers, shamefully, the times he’d fantasized about absorbing Frisk’s soul had he the chance. Maybe then he would find _something_ to end these stupid resets.

 

“so the humans abruptly declared war on monsters, eventually winning. not a single human was killed – but hundreds of monsters were.” He sighs at this part, because even though he hates the entire story, this is his least favorite part. “seven human mages sealed monsters underground.”

 

“Is that all?” You ask, frowning, but he shakes his skull.

 

“unfortunately not.” He looks back to your hands, continuing. He doesn’t want to see your face for this part, even if you had listened so far with an open mind. “one day a human child fell down here. the prince, asriel, found them and brought them home. Soon the human was adopted by the king and queen. everyone was happy – the entire monster world. only, the poor kid fell sick.”

 

He shudders, knowing he couldn’t let that happen to you. He couldn’t even _think_ about losing you. Not after the first human, and then Frisk's first run ended that way. “eventually they died, wishing to see the surface one last time before death. asriel absorbed their soul and went through the barrier, bringing the kid’s body to a village, setting them down.” His eye sockets go dark. “he shielded the kid’s body as the humans attacked, blaming the prince. hurt, asriel came back through the barrier with the kid’s body, but collapsed on a patch of golden flowers. he turned to dust.

 

“the queen and king lost both of their children in one day. overcome with grief, the king declared war on the humans, planning to collect seven souls to break the barrier. the queen left, wanting no part with the king’s revenge. no one knows where she is now.”

 

“Why seven?” Your voice is soft, as he lets you examine his own hands as he did yours. He closes his eye sockets at the soothing feeling, leaning into your touch.

 

“it only takes one human soul and one monster soul to _cross_ the barrier, but seven human souls – the same amount of souls that created the barrier – to break it.”

 

“Oh.” You exhale, and at the prompting of the sound, he realizes he’s stopped breathing. He takes in a deep breath then lets it out, waiting for your response. He’s nervous, because he’s never had to tell this story before. Frisk had always found out from waterfall – when they made it that far. The other six humans hadn’t cared enough to ask, or didn’t make it as far to even inquire.

 

“That’s sad.” You finally state, and when he looks up he can tell you’re thinking of what to say. There’s so many emotions flashing in your eyes that he can see, and he can only hope that through tonight the two of you might become closer. “I can understand Asgore’s anger now… but I don’t know why he doesn’t just cross the barrier himself with one of the souls he already has and gets the other soul from the other side. Humans die all the time.”

 

Sans has thought of this himself, and he’s not sure if you’ll like the conclusion he’s come to. “asgore’s a coward, y/n.” He doesn’t mean to growl, but it comes out low and he watches as you stiffen. He feels horrible, because you’re still afraid of him. Why wouldn’t you be? “i’m sorry.”

 

He doesn’t expect it, but your hand squeezes his own and he looks back to you. You’re smiling, and once again he’s filled with that vibrant warmth in his chest that makes him just want to forget all the badness in the world. “I can’t forgive you – but I accept your apology, Sans.”

 

Sans smiles then, a _real_ smile, **determined** to one day earn your forgiveness.


	16. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a relaxing shower, and decide to think some things over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing but filler. Trust me though, the next chapter's 'll be killer! ;)

When you wake up, you feel surprisingly well-rested and take a few moments to enjoy stretching out and waking up your groggy body. You don’t quite recall in these few moments exactly _where_ you are, but you do remember it’s somewhere safe. Mumbling softly, you open your eyes and find yourself sprawled out on Sans’ bed, in his room.

 

Immediately you spring up to the sound of a certain short skeleton laughing, turning to glare at him. You don’t remember exactly how it came to be with you sleeping with him last night, but your glare softened when you remembered the majority of what the two of you had talked about. You felt a little less harshly for him, and he smiled when you started to get out of his bed, yawning.

 

“i got you some stuff.” In his hands is a plastic bag filled with clothes, and he continues, “there’s more in the garage. me and pap were thinking of turning it into your own room. we also got you some stuff in the bathroom… and toilet paper, since you’re the only one who uses the toilet.”

 

You’re not quite sure what to say – it’s very kind of the skeleton brothers, and you could have very easily bought your own things. You wouldn't of minded getting a job or something,  but it just goes to show you how much Sans seems to be trying to fix things. You understood there’d be times where he’d still be distant and, well… but you’d had to look past that. You were determined to make the skeleton a better person after last night.

 

“Thank you, Sans.” You smile, and reach over for the bag. You feel grimy and disgusting from the past few days, and relax at the thought of a shower. “I think I’m going to take a shower right now, _tibia_ honest.”

 

He laughs, and scratches the back of his skull as he watches you leave. You can’t help but feel happy, now that things seem to be finally turning up for good. You still want to go home – see who might be waiting for you on the surface, but there’s a part of you that can imagine a life of staying here with the two skeletons.

 

It’s not until you begin to get undressed, now in the bathroom, and turn to the mirror that things still seem bleak. The collar’s there, and it brings you back to reality with a thud that makes your entire body go numb. Reaching your fingers up to touch the soft leather, you almost expect Sans – the Sans who put it on you – to appear and hurt you. Like in your dream.

 

The collar is black leather, but has a plush white inside where it touches the creamy skin of your throat. It’s adorned with silver metal bones that are cold to the touch, and all in all, it’s a collar befitting a pet of the Skeleton brothers. But not you.

 

Shaking, you take it off, feeling like a burden has been lifted from your shoulders. You immediately set it down on the bathroom counter next to the sink wanting nothing else to do with the damned thing. It was nice, but a symbol of how much you’d _hated_ Sans. You were past that.

 

But as you started to soak beneath the hot spray of the shower, you began to wonder if maybe Sans was tricking you. If _anything_ he said was the truth. Then again, he wasn’t lying about the war or monsters hunting for humans. Toriel had confirmed that. But what about himself? Was he just giving you a sob story so you would trust him?

 

When did you become the person that thinks the worse of people? You _had_ to believe Sans wanted to make things right. Or else it wasn’t worth thinking about.

 

Rinsing out the shampoo from your hair, you turned your thoughts to Toriel. You missed the goat monster dearly, and wondered if you would ever see her again. You really wanted to – but the only way you could do that was if you found a way to succeed. Which you would. You’d decided that before, hadn’t you?

 

Only now you were determined not only for Toriel, but for the monsters of Snowdin as well, including the skeleton brothers. You wanted them all to see the sun for the first time – to look at the stars and feel the breeze on their faces. You wanted to break the barrier more than ever now, if not for them, but for yourself. For everyone.

 

Getting out of the shower, you look at the clothes Sans got for you. He didn’t get you any new undergarments it seemed – perhaps you’d go shopping for those yourself, later – so you put on your old ones, knowing they needed to be cleaned soon. The shirt was plain and white, but the jeans were nice. Besides that, there was a red hoodie that was nearly identical to Sans' par the obvious color difference, and you found that all the clothes fit nicely. All in all, you decided to thanks Sans, knowing he didn’t have to get you these things.

 

Once you were dressed, wet hair lying on your shoulders, you paused by the door. Your eyes were drawn to the collar and you wondered what you should do with it. _Not put it back on, that’s for damned sure._ That was your first thought, and with that, you were set. Picking it up in your hands, along with your dirty outfit, you left the bathroom, **determined** to see if Sans was really going to stick by and try being a better person.


	17. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast turns out to be quite the funny affair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I sorta promised a plot heavy chapter but it didn't turn out that way. The next chapter isn't going to be very plot heavy either, but the one after that? Yeah. Shit's gonna go down, son.

When you leave the bathroom, you look out over the balcony railing into the living room below and smile. Sans is sitting on the couch in his hoodie and gym shorts, pink slippers adorning his feet. He’s got a joke book in hand, concentrated gaze carefully reading over what looks to be heavily marked passages. You’re impressed, but realize you’re not that surprised.

 

You can hear the sounds of Papyrus’ intense cooking, the tall skeleton causing quite the racket. Light spills in from the window behind the couch all over the room and Sans’ still form, and you can’t help but feel you’re intruding. Everything’s so peaceful and calm in this domestic scene, despite papyrus’ attempts at what must be spaghetti breakfast, and you can’t help the surging warmth that bubbles inside your chest.

 

Looking down to the collar in hand, you wonder if Sans would say anything – hopefully you’d never see the damned thing again. Clearing your throat, you watch and mourn the loss of Sans’ peaceful concentrated look. Instead you’re graced with a big smile that falters when he notices the collar’s in your hands along with your dirty clothes, rather than on your neck.

 

You both stare at one another for a long time before Sans speaks up.

 

“we can wash your dirty clothes. just leave ‘em in the bathroom.”

 

“Oh – okay. Thanks.” You turn around to go back and set them down, only you’re stopped when Sans speaks again.

 

“You’ll… uh, have to put it back on when we go outside, y’know?” It’s all he says, and although you don’t know what you were expecting, your shoulders fall and you sigh in defeat.

 

“Okay.”

 

After placing your clothes in the bathroom and coming down the stairs, you set the collar down on the table before joining Sans on the couch. The skeleton is once again invested in his book as you find the remote to the TV nowhere near where you left it last night, before you were unceremoniously teleported to Sans’ room. It’s widgeted between two couch cushions, and you switch the TV on, browsing the channels.

 

Eventually it becomes evident that most of the channels still feature what you’ve come to know as the Underground’s only star, Mettaton. Fed up with a lack of diversity, you just turn the TV back off.

 

“Who is Mettaton, anyways?” You ask, more curious than annoyed. Sans shuffles besides you, looking up.

 

“only the most self-absorbed guy there is.” He mutters, before shifting his gaze to the kitchen. “pap loves the guy.” There’s a lot of hatred in Sans’ eyes, and you have the decency to wonder why. As far as you’ve seen, Sans doesn’t really _hate_ anybody. He can be a jerk, and even when he’d given Alphy’s that look of disgust last night, he didn’t seem to _hate_ her.

 

“But who _is_ he?” You push, and Sans only sighs. Before he can explain however, Papyrus runs into the living room, wearing an apron and chef’s hat. You giggle because it just _fits_ and seems so him.

 

“HUMAN! BROTHER! THE FOOD IS READY!” He announces, both you and Sans getting off of the couch. Sans sets his book down and follows you as you follow Papyrus back into the kitchen.

 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” You tease, taking a seat besides Sans at the table. Papyrus blushes and fumbles for a moment, and Sans lets out a laugh as you smile so much it hurts. Sans is suddenly _wheezing_ because Papyrus slips and all the food he’s worked so hard for falls to the floor and _somehow_ a cabinet is opened, bones falling out everywhere.

 

You can’t help but laugh as well, the tall skeleton looking rather baffled and confused, now lying on the floor at a complete loss of what to say or do.

 

“hey pap.” Sans finally gets out, and you’re still laughing. There’s tears somehow, in Sans face. “i didn’t know you were gonna _fall_ for her so quick.”

 

The two of you laugh once again, and the once blush of embarrassment on Papyrus’ face turns into anger.

 

“SANS!” The skeleton stands, brushing himself off. “STOP THESE HURRENDOUS JOKES!”

 

“Aww. I thought they were pretty _humorous._ ” You say, and even though it’s not very original and you’re pretty sure it’s one Sans told you last night, you can’t help it. Papyrus nearly screams, throwing his hands up in a fit of rage.

 

“OH NO! AND NOW THE HUMAN IS TELLING JOKES TOO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, SANS?”

 

“c’mon pap. you’d think with you being a skeleton an all…” You know what’s coming and you suppress your smile. Papyrus just glares at the two of you angrily, but you can hear a “NYEH” coming from him that’s slowly growing louder. “that nothing would _get under your skin_.”

 

“THAT’S IT!” The skeleton screams, before pointing at Sans. “I’M GOING TO CLEAN THIS MESS UP AND YOU AND THE HUMAN CAN FIND NURISHMENT ON YOUR OWN.” He crosses his arms, closing his eyes and manages looks smug. “AND GOOD LUCK! BECAUSE THERE IS _NOTHING_ AS GREAT AS THE MIGHTY PAPYRUS’ BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI.”

 

“Oh no!” You cry, smiling. Sans only shrugs, before turning to you.

 

“wanna head to grillby’s?” He asks, and you vaguely remember it from the tour Papyrus gave you as the “WORST RESTERAUNT IN THE UNDERGROUND – HOW DOES PEOPLE EVEN CALL THE STUFF IT SERVES _FOOD?_ ” and you _also_ remember him calling all restaurants in the Underground very unsavory and trash compared to his own cooking.

 

“Sure.” You smile, shrugging. Papyrus looks aghast, and seems to be thinking about retaking his offer. The two of you stand from the table, and go into the living room. You zip up your jacket, enjoying the warmth from the fabric. Suddenly, you’re surprised when Sans pulls on your sleeve.

 

Confused as to why he didn’t just call for you, you turn around and freeze. In his hands is the collar. Hr doesn’t even dare to  _look_ at you, but you can imagine the blank grin he must be wearing. You don’t quite know what to say, deciding to just bite the bullet. You take it from his hands and put it on, turning around once more so you don’t have to look at Sans.

 

Mildly, you wonder if he’s going to use the matching leash hanging by the door, but he forgoes it as he walks past you and out the door. You follow, head high, and **determined.**


	18. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans enjoy your morning together, only to be interrupted.

You’re happy to have something other than spaghetti for once, walking out of Grillby’s stuffed and cozy. The entire bar had a warmth to it, and it wasn’t just because of Grillby, a literal man – monster, really - on fire. The entire atmosphere in there was made to entice its patrons to relax and take a load off. And so you did, ordered some _really good_ food, and joked with Sans the entire time.

 

A good portion of it was actually companionable silence, but it was nice. You learned that over everything else Sans preferred condiments to food, and you had an embarrassing moment when you couldn’t stop but stare, wondering where the hell food _went_ when he ate. He’d only laughed, shrugged it off, and supplied, “magic, sweetheart.”

 

Now, standing in the snow before the neon lights of Grillby’s, you look to Sans and give him a pondering stare. He’s watching the town with a soft smile, eyes seeming to glow dimly. He’s deep in thought, but all in all, is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

 

“What now?” He turns to you, smiling, and shrugs.

 

“’dunno. c’mon.” He takes your hand, and pulls you along back out of town towards the forest. You shudder into your jacket to hide your blush, reminding yourself that to everyone watching you’re just a pet. The thought sobers you a little, but you don’t let it hinder your good mood as the two of you walk through the snow.

 

Eventually you reach a sentry station you remember being very close to the ruins. You can’t help but wonder how Toriel is, and Sans catches your wondering eyes. He’s sitting down inside the sentry station, pulling out a bottle of ketchup from god knows where. You pause, wondering if you should tell him. Does he know Toriel?

 

“Just wondering if someone’s okay.” You explain, leaning against the wooden structure. Sans just hums, leaning back and closes his eyes. You smile at the sight, glad he trusted you enough to not watch. You relax, look out to the snow around you, and get an idea.

 

A few minutes later Sans is lightly snoring, your hands seemingly frozen and wet from touching the snow. You’ve put together a fort of snow behind a tree, peeking out over it to look at Sans. In your hand is a snowball, and more quickly disintegrating ones are piled near you. You’re prepared.

 

Giggling while covering your mouth with your free hand, you finally let it loose. The snowball goes flying, hitting Sans square in the face. The skeleton’s eyes snap open, his left eye blue and his right empty as his chair falls back. He doesn’t make a sound as he teleports out of the sentry station, wiping the snow away with wide eyes.

 

You think he looks terrified, as he looks around, and you feel bad for playing a trick on him. He must not know where you are, or what you’re doing. Deciding to throw another since he probably deserved to be scared shitless, you hit the back of his skull with a laugh. He turns around so quickly you flinch, grinning at his surprised look. When he sees you he smiles more easily, the sweat disappearing from his skull.

 

“there you are.” He mumbles, and you throw another. Only this time he moves so quickly that you barely even register it, looking from the packed snow now on the ground, to you. “gotta try better than that, sweetheart.”

 

“Alright, if you say so!” You shout, and an all-out snowball war breaks out. You never hit him again, but you realize soon that he’s using magic to send snow flying your way. You think it’s not fair, but then again you _did_ wake him up. You asked for this.

 

It’s not until you think he’s finally getting tired of dodging and your clothes are soaked that you both stand on the pathway, facing one another. His hands are in his pockets, and sweat is forming on his skull as he seems to be breathing heavily. You’re in a similar state, a snowball in hand that’s quickly melting.

 

“You can’t dodge forever Sans.” You banter, and his eyes flash. Before you can register what he’s doing, his hand is out and glowing along with his left eye, a giant pile of snow lifting off the ground. You watch in mock horror as he lifts it, clearly struggling to. Slowly it floats over your head, and Sans’ smile gets bigger.

 

“i think i have _snow_ problem.” The snow falls, and luckily, it’s not packed. Your crushed beneath the snow and tou fight against the snow to get out, your head reaching the surface as you struggle to breathe through your laughter. Sans is standing in front of you, and suddenly, you reach out and pull him down in the snow. He yells, but it’s worth it when he comes up, laughing as well.

 

You’re about to make a terrible snow pun when there’s a blood curdling scream spilling out into the air.

 

Immediately the two of you go silent, and you notice Sans has grown completely still. He’s not even breathing anymore.

 

He stands up and you follow. He’s about to take your hand and your only thought is he’s going to teleport you home. You don’t _want_ to go back. Not now. You want to see who’s screaming – you want to help them, so you run.

 

Sans curses from behind you and starts walking after you, teleporting so he’s always a few steps behind you. You don’t wonder why he doesn’t just stop you, as you race through the woods in the direction you heard the scream. Against your better thinking you begin to yell, hoping they can hear you.

 

“Hello!? Anyone there?!” Sans has caught up now and is teleporting besides you. You hear him mumble something about stupid humans, but you ignore it. There’s another scream and you finally realize _why_ you’re so upset. The voice is familiar, and just as your about to come upon them, Sans tackles you from behind, before a clearing, bringing you to the ground.

 

You start to fight to get up, yelling at the skeleton. He just shushes you by placing bony hands on your mouth, straddling you. He’s looking out beyond the tree line to whoever was screaming.

 

Sans goes very still, and his eyes are dark.

 

“no. no no no no no…” You push him off easily now, turning to see what it is that’s seemingly broken the skeleton.

 

Alphys is on the ground, crying and covered in dust.

 

A child stands before her, a knife clutched tightly in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my writing is getting shitty - more shitty then it was to begin with.


	19. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Frisk.

You remember.

 

Suddenly, you’re assaulted by your past; thoughts, emotions, and memories winding up and taking you by storm. You’re not quite sure how, but you’re still standing, and it’s the heavy weight of the earth beneath your feet that keeps you grounded. It’s almost too much anyways. Within seconds all of this takes place and suddenly you’re a new person.

 

The child standing over the crying yellow dinosaur monster is your _sibling._

You remember holding them after birth, amazed such tiny fingers could grasp your own. You remember both of your deadbeat parents dying in a car crash, Frisk barely a year old. You remember your case worker -  a kind woman who explained this all to you, the two of you becoming wards of the state. You remember going from foster home to foster home and every agonizing moment you were nearly parted from Frisk because the government thought it best. You remember finally turning old enough to become an emancipated minor and taking them yourself to care for.

 

You remember it all, and it hits you with such a harsh blow you can barely breathe. Your eyesight is blurring as your sibling stands there, almost in a trance, holding the knife above Alphys. They’re going to _kill_ her.

 

You’re shaken from your reverie when Sans is suddenly up and your sibling is engulfed in red magic, knife held in the air. You realize what he’s going to do.

 

You bolt once more, going to stand in front of Frisk, hands splayed wide as if taunting Sans to attack. You don’t care if they’re covered in dust from killing monsters. Or that there’s a knife in their hands. This is _Frisk._ The one you raised and stood by through it all. The child you cared for above anything else and that you suddenly felt guilty for not remembering. For not trying _hard_ enough to reach the surface for.

 

“I won’t let you hurt them Sans!” You yell, eyes flickering from the panting and wide eyed Alphys to the stock still smiling skeleton that is Sans. He looks righteous and godlike, singular eye glowing and shedding out red light, his hand the same ghastly color. There’s a large goat-like skull that floats in the air besides him, his magic static in the air. You’re terrified, but you know that behind you, Frisk is still immobilized. If Sans wanted to he could kill them. He could kill you both.

 

“ **m o v e**.” He’s still smiling besides it all, and you refuse to do what he says. You won’t let him hurt them. You wouldn’t let _anyone_ hurt them, ever. “ **o r  I ’ l l  m a k e  y o u**.”

 

His free hand is balled into a fist and he’s sweating. You can tell he’s determined, but you’re more so. The stare down continues, but eventually it’s broken when you here a small voice behind you whisper out your name. The voice sounds so _small_ and _broken_ that you can’t help but turn around. Frisk is looking up at you with big eyes, and instead of the white-knuckled grip they once had on the knife, they’re barely touching it. It’s still suspended in their grip however, due to Sans’ magic.

 

“Let them go Sans!” You snap over your shoulder, getting on one knee. Placing your hands on their shoulders, you notice the fear in their eyes and smile reassuringly. You can’t help but give them an empty promise. “It’s okay, Frisk. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

 

You always knew Frisk had bad moments and could be a strange kid, but by the sheer amount of dust on them, you feel as if you’ve never really known your sibling. How could they _do_ this? Why? You remembered the near dead look in their eyes when you first spotted them towering above Alphys, but now they just looked terrified and exhausted. You didn’t blame them – the underground could be a dangerous place for a child.

 

“Frisk, you have to let go of the knife.” You murmured, reaching up and taking the handle of the blade. They seem to be thinking about saying no, only they’re still frozen. You smile, tears burning your eyes and shake your head. “Frisk, honey, _please._ ”

 

You want Sans to see they're just a child. You don’t know quite what’s gotten him so riled, but you won’t let him think Frisk's some kind of monster.

 

“ _Please!_ ” You beg, crying in earnest as you press your head into Frisk’ chest. You hope Sans can hear you, because you don’t want anything bad to happen to anyone. You just want to go back to before this happened, when you and Sans seemed to be getting along. Only now, Frisk is sniffling above you, and you swear you can feel the knife falling into your grip as they finally try to let go.

 

You hear a sigh come from behind you, noticing that Alphy’s quiet sniveling is now gone, Frisk suddenly falling into your grip. The knife is in _your_ hands now and you do the first thing that comes to mind and throw it into the forest behind Frisk. The tiny child only clutches you tightly, face screwed up into tears as you hold them, rocking gently.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so _so_ sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry, sorry…” On and on Frisk goes, sobbing into your shirt, every so often saying your name. Some part of you is surprised because normally, Frisk is mute and never says _anything_. Only now, they can’t seem to stop apologizing.

 

This seems to go on forever, until there’s a solid hand on your shoulder. You jump, and Frisk does as well, freezing when they sees who it is. You already have a good guess by now.

 

“Take us home.” You say, and the way you say it makes it unquestionable. The skeleton says nothing, squeezing gently. “ _Now_.”

 

You know by the lack of sniveling that he’s already taken Alphys back where she belongs and you don’t bother to wonder why she was out here in the first place. Instead you let the soothing feeling of Frisk’s hands balled up in your shirt comfort you, pulling them in closer as Sans teleports you away. It’s not until later that you realize you called his home your own, but by then you’re **determined** to protect Frisk and make sure Sans doesn’t ever come near to harming them again.

 

Or that Frisk harms anyone else, ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a pet cockatiel guys and she's the cutest littlest shit, but all she does is run across my keyboard and headbutt my hands when I'm trying to write so I'll pet her.  
> Oh, and I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I think the smut's coming soon, tibia honest. I will be making it a separate chapter that is completely optional. I understand some people would prefer it that way.


	20. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk and Papyrus now put to bed, you and Sans once again have a heart to heart.

Frisk’s soft breathing calms you as you sit on the bed besides them, your fingers carding through their wet hair. You’d insisted they take a bath while you watched in pensive silence, chewing on the inside of your lip for the majority of the time. Thankfully Frisk had been silent, going through the motions as if they were still comprehending what had happened. You didn’t blame them, but you did make sure to scrub every inch of their skin, desperate to get every particle of dust off of them. You'd even spent a good five minutes working with their nails, not wanting anything left.

 

Now, staring at Frisk, they were wearing one of Sans’ white shirts, a large ketchup stain on the front. It made you feel both comforted and conflicted, the very skeleton having tried to kill Frisk mere hours ago. You sighed, still having no idea what came over Sans in that moment. Stopping them from hurting Alphys was one thing, but telling you to move out of the way for no other reason than to _hurt_ Frisk, was something you couldn’t allow to happen.

 

And what about Frisk? Why had they been dust covered, and looked like they were in some kind of trance? Their eyes had been hollow, but every movement they made was fluid and smooth, as if they were certain of what they were doing. And why, when you saw them, did your memories suddenly return? Certainly, a few things were still foggy, but enough had become clear about your past that a couple of things suddenly made sense.

 

Now you knew that the only thing that was waiting for you on the surface was down here, safe. For now.

 

That brought up another thing.

 

Did you still even want to go to the surface?

 

Now that Frisk was here with you, you felt more at ease. Maybe you could convince the monsters of Snowdin that being a pet of the skeleton brothers had been a dare? A joke, even? They apparently didn’t know what humans looked like anyways. You could pass it off. You and Frisk could live here, in Snowdin, and stay safe.

 

Something inside of you rebelled.

 

But why would you stay here? Much like the surface, there wasn’t much here for you. Then again, something Snowdin had that the surface didn’t was Sans, Papyrus, and Toriel. But you desperately _wanted_ to free monsterkind. It seemed, however, that the only feasible way of doing that was by giving up your soul. You didn’t want that. You wanted freedom, not just for the monsters, but for _everyone._

 

You thought of Sans, and wondered where your relationship was now.

 

You certainly wanted to be on better terms with the skeleton, but something about the look in his eyes when he saw Frisk made you uncertain and scared of him. Deciding to leave your decisions to what Sans had to say in defense of himself, you stood from Frisk’s bedside, going to leave Sans’ room. You locked the door on your way out, knowing that Frisk was a heavy sleeper. You’d come join them soon, anyways.

 

Sans was sitting at the top of the stairs, shaking softly. You realized he must’ve tucked Papyrus in already. Thinking back to the taller skeleton, you remembered how quickly he adjusted to the thought of Frisk, openly welcoming the small child with a loud declaration that they would be the best of friends, seeing as how he had already befriended their elder sibling. You smiled at the thought, before stopping.

 

It was now or never.

 

Taking off the collar in your hands, you go over to Sans and walk past him down the stairs. You think he’s crying – maybe that’s why he’s shaking. But maybe, then again, you’re wrong. You’re not quite sure and you don’t look at him to check. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy until he explains, and you make no move of hiding the fact of setting the collar down on the table in the living room, going into the kitchen.

 

You’re making tea, heating up the water while you wait for the skeleton to follow you. Part of you hopes he never enters the kitchen and stays on the stairs all night. It would make you feel better, to not have to confront him at all. However, you’re proven wrong when the shuffle of slippers on carpet reaches your ears, Sans pulling himself a seat from the kitchen table.

 

You’re leaning against the kitchen counter, and you’re not sure you can look at him right now. You don’t even know what to _think._ You and Sans had been getting along fine before Frisk showed up, only now things seemed different. Strained.

 

“I’m thinking about leaving in the morning.” You finally say, the words bitter on your tongue. You still don’t look at him. “I want to find a way to break the barrier.”

 

“you’ll die.” He says, and you look at him finally. His hood is drawn, eyes pinned on you. There’s something unhinged in the way he smiles, but you ignore it. You’re not scared of him anymore. He had his chance to kill you, but he trusted you instead. “i can’t let you do that.”

 

“I want you to watch Frisk for me while I’m gone.” You continue, ignoring him. You pour the now hot water into a mug, glad Sans had bought some tea when he went shopping before. It’s Golden flower tea, and you nearly want to just out the water and not drink it at all. Golden flowers. Why always golden flowers? You take one of the tea bags anyways. “I might not come back.”

 

“sweetheart, you’re not leaving.” He growls, and you wince at the sight of his phalanges digging into the hard wood of the table. The air buzzes slightly as he becomes angry, but you glare at him evenly.

 

“Or what?” You snap, setting your drink down. You never wanted it anyways – you just made it to pass the time. You needed to do _something_. “I stay down here the rest of my days with Frisk? I know there’s nothing waiting for me on the surface now that Frisk’s here, but what else could I do? Subject Frisk to a life without sunlight and stars, and damn monsterkind to the same? At least I could be _useful_ and do _something_ -”

 

Suddenly Sans is in front of you, eye glowing ominously as he grabs you roughly by the hand you’re currently gesturing with. You feel afraid, but at the same time…

 

No. Right now was _not_ the time for feelings like those. Besides, it’s _Sans._

“stay.” He mutters, voice low as he watches you intensely, free hand reaching up. His eyes have gone back to normal, and his face is solemn now, his smile full of light and awe. You can’t move – not because of magic, but because you’re curious why he seems to be inching closer, and why his free hand is cupping the side of your face. “with me.”

 

Oh.

 

His teeth press into your lips and you don’t know what to do. Sans is _kissing_ you, and hours ago he threatened to kill Frisk. But right now, his hand has dropped yours and is pulling you closer by your hip, dragging against your side pleasurably. What are you doing?

 

Your mind is blank and you close your eyes. Do you want this?

 

_Yes._

 

Your hands tighten around the fabric of his hoodie, and you lean into the kiss, shivering at the warm feel of his bones against your skin. You don’t know why, but you _want_ this. Every part of you is pressing close to the skeleton, and it’s not long until you have to pull away for air.

 

Sans is chuckling but panting with the effort to breathe properly, and you wonder why he just doesn’t stop all together. It might be easier on him that way.

 

“fuck.” He pants out, before smiling broadly. “someone might say you’re…”

 

“Sans don’t.” You warn, fighting off a budding smile through a stern look.

 

“moaning for a boning.”

 

You groan through your giggles, and Sans grins sharply as you lay your head on his shoulder. He holds you tightly, and what he says next sends shivers down your spine, all of your previous **determination** for leaving fading away.

 

“i told you babe.” He rumbles against you. “i’m not letting you leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh - Next chapter, smut!


	21. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Bone Zone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, warning? Smut. Yeah...
> 
> OH! And I promise you guys this smut is COMPLETELY optional. So if you want to save it for later and skip ahead for now... go ahead ;)
> 
> I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean for this story to be all fluff and happy times but it just... kinda... happened? So I do owe you guys some kind of angry smut later. Which I promise will happen. So not now, not the first time, but later. Promise.

You blink, and suddenly you’re somewhere completely different.

 

Before you can really get a good look around however, Sans is impatiently kissing you once more, both of his hands now dragging up and down your sides. You wilt slightly under his touch, but when there’s literal _sparks_ you jump, groaning at the sensation. Sans just grins, and you struggle to properly breathe.

 

“sorry. didn’t mean to shock ya.” He winks, finally letting you get a good look around. It’s a very expensive looking hotel room, and you wonder where in the Underground you must be. Sans shrugs when you pin him with a probing look, saying, “we’re in a hotel in hotland. i’ve got a room key.”

 

He doesn’t show it to you, and you decide not to question it. All you know is the two of you aren’t going to be interrupted, and you’re fine with that. What you can’t stand, however, is the sudden heat in the air around you. You can barely stand and do nothing, and Sans seems to be thinking the same thing, stripping of his hoodie and throwing it to the side.

 

You blush, suddenly realizing you’ve never done this – let alone with a skeleton. Like what the actual fuck. You’re about to have _sex_ with a _skeleton._

 

He laughs, seeming to read this in your blush and awkward stance, before grinning at you evenly. “trust me.” He reassures, walking towards you. You can’t help but step back for every step he takes forward until your back is against the wall, and Sans is against you, eyes shining mischievously. “you’re about to have a _great_ time.”

 

It’s all the reassuring you need before you’re kissing him with renewed vigor, letting his hands slide under your shirt. His hands are bony but warm, his touch smooth and _electric –_ he’s doing the thing with the sparks again, magic flaring in the room around you as you lean into his touch groaning. It’s all you can do to not beg at this point, it’s too much.

 

Sans is chuckling at every sound you make, and you decide to put your hands under _his_ shirt, grasping onto his lowest set of ribs for stability. He shudders, pausing in his ministrations, head laying low on your shoulder. You can’t help but smile at having the upper hand for once, teasing him by gently stroking along his bones. He literally _rattles_ beneath you and you feel powerful at the way he shudders and gasps at your touch. It’s intoxicating.

 

He’s intoxicating.

 

He seems to have enough, bony hands under your shirt gripping you tightly. You stop, and he looks you in the eye with a shaky smile. “if you keep doing that i might not make it.”

 

“Sorry,” you flush, smiling brightly. “didn’t mean to _rattle your bones_.”

 

He laughs, and it’s such a fluid, melodic sound that you can’t help but feel entranced. He kisses you then, once more, and again, until you're shaking and weak. He’s taken off your shirt and after a few moments of fumbling, has given up taking your bra off with a huff. Before he can tear it off like you think he’s going to, you stop him by placing your hands on his, pushing him away.

 

He watches then, in amazement, as you undress for him. You feel giddy and intoxicated, completely drunk on the way his eyes watch you and how he reacts to _every little thing_ you do. It’s amazing to feel so wanted.

 

When you’re naked you blush and look away, but don’t cover your body. You feel embarrassed and completely at his mercy, prepared for whatever criticism comes your way. However, you’re surprised when there’s bony hands lifting your own, and you watch as he presses your hands to his teeth in a silent kiss.

 

“beautiful.”

 

You don’t feel right to be called this, but you accept it anyways and flush. “I know you are,” you mumble, pulling his shirt off and over his head, running your hands up and down his ribs like a xylophone. He shudders. “but what am I?”

 

He takes the challenge, kissing you again, hands running all across your skin now. It isn’t long until he picks you up and settles you on the bed. He’s stronger than he looks. He’s staring at you breathlessly from before the bed, and you can’t help but trace his form with your eyes. He’s about your height and a little big boned, but besides that, all you can think is he’s _perfect._

 

You never imagined the Skeleton you once met, who threatened you, would soon grow into someone you’d trust enough to do _this_ with. Willingly, even. It was a strange idea, and had someone told you this was what was going to happen when you first met Sans, you would’ve laughed and spat in their face.

 

“you’re gorgeous.” Sans says, smiling softly, and he looks at you as if you’re his _everything._ You don’t know why, but to him this seems so much more than it really is. And what is this, anyways? The two of you barely knew one another, and yet, here you were. “you’re all I need of the surface to be happy.”

 

You don’t think he could possibly be telling the truth, because you’re not quite sure you feel near the same amount for him as he apparently does for you. You decide not to dwell on things right now, and focus more on the moment. You’re about to be with Sans in the most intimate way and _god_ do you feel impatient. It’s not until then that you begin to wonder how exactly, although…

 

“don’t worry,” Sans winks, pulling down his shorts to reveal the same anatomy any skeleton would have. You’re concerned for a few moments on the specifics, but not before long there’s a phantasmal cock forming between his legs, a bright crimson red – the same color as his magic. You blush, because to your inexperienced eyes it looks _big,_ but with the way Sans is eyeing you, your pretty sure it’ll work. It has to, right?

 

“I… uh, Sans?” You ask, and the Skeleton, now climbing on the bed and thusly over you, pauses.

 

“yeah, sweetheart?” You blush, turning your gaze away. You’re not sure you can face him, feeling embarrassed more now than ever.

 

“I… uh… I’ve never… well…” You sputter out the words, and each one makes your heart thud painfully. You feel even more uncomfortable under the unwavering gaze of the skeleton as he just laughs and finally stops moving when he’s hovering over you, propped up by his arms. He kisses you intensely, with a fervor you try your best to outmatch. You can’t.

 

“never been to the bone zone?” He teases between kisses, and you nearly want to slap him because the joke is just _so bad._ “aww, well, promise you it’s a skele _ton_ of fun. I’ll be careful.” He finally concedes, and despite the puns, it’s a thoughtful gesture. You wonder if Sans has done this before – not just with other monsters, but with other humans that have come through the underground. The thought is thrown out of your head however when another phantasmal appendage – a glowing red tongue – presses into the skin of your neck.

 

You arch into the feeling as one of his hands starts to massage your breast and you think _yeah, probably has,_ or how else would he know to touch you like this? You don’t feel jealous – you’re pretty sure _all_ you feel right now is the way his magic sparks against your skin, and the way he’s pressing his teeth into the joint of your shoulder and neck – and _oh god_ you arch up into him moaning, needing more. You need him, all of him, even though it’s already seeming to be too much.

 

He laughs – and god you’re starting to hate that chuckle, the one he does when you feel completely helpless and needy – and the hand teasing your breasts travels down, _slowly, slowly, slowly,_ until your begging incoherently. Everywhere his hand travels red sparks flint off your skin causing you to gasp. _It’s_ _too much._

 

His hand is right where you need it, _finally_ , the hard ridges of his fingers pressing into your slit and traveling up until you buck as he flicks your clit, looking up to see your surprised reaction. He’s currently tasting your breasts, tongue and teeth gently teasing one nipple after the other and you’re not sure you can take it for much longer.

 

He keeps teasing your core, seeming to wait for something. It isn’t until you beg, plead really, that he finally starts to fuck you with his fingers, warm phalanges sparking in magic in what you presume is an effort to not hurt you by the hard edges of his bones. You appreciate the gesture while you can before he’s fully engrossed in finger fucking you, done with exploring you with his teeth and tongue. He’s gone to just watching as you struggle to keep a straight face, seeming to enjoy every little reaction.

 

When his fingers scissor just the right way or curl into a certain position he watches as you crow beneath him, doing it again. You wonder why anyone _ever_ called Sans lazy – he’s clearly a fast learner and a dedicated student, and it’s not long until you’re coming, orgasming around his fingers. Sans curses because he’s not expecting for you to clamp down around him, pulling his fingers away when he’s finally able to.

 

“shit _,_ you’re so _tight._ ” You moan feverishly at his words, and a sly smile begins to slip across his face. “like that, huh?” He murmurs, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the cool head of his cock pressing gently against your folds, his breathing labored. “do you like it when i tell you you’re so fucking _tight_ and _hot,_ and god, I can’t wait to bury my dick inside of you?”

 

You choke out a moan, not even able to say yes. It’s true. He could say anything, actually, at this point, and it would get you off. His voice is gravel from the lust swimming around the two of you, as he slowly pushes his way inside of you.

 

“ _fuck, y/n._ ” It’s all he says, accompanied with a shuddering groan that rattles his bones. You can’t help but laugh shakily, the sound ending with a whimper as he shifts inside of you. It feels so damn _good._ You don’t ever want this moment to end, with the slight burn of him stretching you for the first time, and the feel of him buried deep inside of you. It’s too good.

 

“Sans, _please,_ move.” You beg, your hands reaching around him to hook on the back of his ribs. He shudders at the contact but complies anyways, slowly pulling away and thrusting back inside, causing the both of you to moan at the contact. You’d both barely started and yet, you were both near the finish. Looking at him now, the same concentrated careful look was gracing his features. You smiled, and gripped him tighter. “It’s okay Sans,” You told him. “you won’t hurt me.”

 

It seems that’s all he needs to pick up the pace, and you try your best to match his speed. It’s not brutal, but it’s enough, and the both of you are in tempo with the other, your hips arching forward to meet him on every thrust. Your body feels like it’s on _fire,_ red sparks causing the already dim lights of the room to flicker then short out. When the sparks touch you it’s like _he’s_ touching you, and they carve paths up and down your skin, leaving you breathless.

 

You lock your ankles behind his pelvis, and suddenly he’s getting at you from a whole new angle. It’s all you need, and you tumble over the edge of your orgasm, Sans following not long after with your name on his tongue. He thrusts a few more times, spilling a sticky warm blue fluid across your thighs, but despite the looks of it, you’re not worried. There’s no possible way, anyways.

 

Sans just about collapses on you, sweating and struggling to breathe. You’re in the same state if not worse, voice hoarse as you stare at the ceiling. You aren’t sure what this changes between the two of you, as Sans rolls over and pulls you close, but you hope it’s for the better.

 

You’re filled with **determination** , hoping when you wake up this _isn’t_ a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs away and hides*


	22. Twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up and realize what you've done.

You’re wrapped up in the warmest embrace, bony fingers pressed tightly against your skin. Your legs are entangled with someone else’s, your chest touching a warm ribcage. All you can think is that you don’t want to wake up yet – you’re far too comfortable, warm and safe beneath the covers. There’s a pleasurable ache that stems from your inner thighs, and you feel worked over. You murmur happily through it all, yawning and cuddling into whatever is holding you.

 

It’s not until a familiar chuckle, deeper than usual, sounds right above your head making you go still. Memories tighten your chest of your encounter last night with the Underground’s shortest skeleton monster, and how much you’d wanted it. You remember his touches and words, every detail, and blush. It’s a bit too much, you think, as you unbury your head from Sans’ chest and look him in the eyes.

 

He’s smiling as usual, but it’s such a carefree and warm thing, you feel almost attracted to it like a moth to flame. There’s a small inkling in your head of pressing forward to give a soft kiss to his teeth, but it’s gone just as quickly, a wave of confusion overwhelming you. He notices your troubled look because he goes still, eyes seeming to search your face for something. You don’t know what.

 

You both sit there for a long time, taking one another in. Sans looks so unsure of himself, and the lamplight emanating from besides the bed casts shadows across his features, making him look doubtful and insecure. You hope, at least, it’s just a trick of the lighting.

 

Your heart is hammering, and you wonder what he sees, looking at you.

 

You don’t know what to think – you’d literally just been boned by a skeleton. You had full out sex, and if that wasn’t worse, you’d wanted it. You’d wanted and thoroughly enjoyed sex from the very person who threatened you not even three days ago, and threatened Frisk yesterday. How stupid were you? Then again – this was the same person who seemed to want nothing other than to protect you, even against your will. This was Sans, the lazy prankster skeleton who did nothing but drink condiments almost professionally.

 

This was the same person who collared and humiliated you, and tried to kill someone you loved.

 

This was the same person who held you while you cried, protected you from harm, and was nothing less than insecure about himself. Of that, you could tell.

 

You were so confused. Did you hate Sans, or did you like him? One thing was certain, however. You certainly did not feel for him as much as he seemed to for you. It was strange – the skeleton was absolutely passionate about keeping you safe, and doing everything out of his way to affect you. And the way he looked at you last night, as if you were his entire reason for being, you weren’t quite sure of.

 

You’d once imagined you could grow to live with the skeleton brothers, but now you weren’t so sure.

 

Pulling away from Sans, you wrapped the duvet around your naked form. You faced away from him, feeling guilty and horrible at the same time. No. All you needed to focus on was Frisk. Maybe Sans was right about staying in the underground – for now – but you had to ignore whatever it was between you and Sans. You just didn’t know how to feel, and you needed time. It just seemed easier to push it away, anyways.

 

Sans said and did nothing, and for all you knew he was still lying on his side, watching you with the same doubtful pensive eyes that did nothing but remind you of how guilty you felt. You were certain, however, that soon he would be back to his joking manipulative self. It was like him to hide how he was feeling. You wondered if you’d learn to do the same, and soon too.

 

“I’m getting dressed.” You murmured, noticing how your clothes were pooled in a pile on the floor, where you’d taken them off last night. “Then take me home, please.”

 

“y/n -” He began, but stopped when you did nothing but stiffen in response. He sounded hoarse, but not completely broken, not like before. He seemed to pause, and as if he were thinking of the same things you’d been, he took a deep breath and sighed. “okay.”

 

You sagged in relief.

 

It’s not until a few minutes later, when you’re in the bathroom and Sans is sitting on the edge of the bed that he looks at you again. You’ve finished washing your hands and you stand in the doorway, leaning against the wall. Sans’ face reveals nothing, and you wonder if you can keep this up. Acting like nothing happened between the two of you. But you had to promise to yourself you’d face your emotions eventually. Eventually you’d confront whatever it was between you and Sans.

 

“is that it?” Sans asks, sounding irritated and tired. “this never happened?”

 

You bite your lip, looking away. Shamefully, you nod, before speaking. “I need…” You search for the right word, before continuing. “time. I need time, and then I’ll know.”

 

You’re not quite sure what you’ll know, but at least it’s something. When you look back up you jump, because Sans is standing right in front of you, staring at you with dark sockets. It’s a little bone chilling, but you try not to react too badly, not wanting to give him ammunition for teasing you later.

 

“do we need to stop? being together in private?” He asks, and he takes your hand in his own, stroking the soft flesh with his thumb. The simple gesture gives you chills, and despite everything you don’t pull away. It’s not until he leans forward to whisper to you that you realize you’ve stopped breathing, your heart shaking. You’re filled with **determination** , but you’re also terrified. “do we need to stop?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes. Sans /is/ asking if you want a friends with benefits relationship.
> 
> Mhuahahahahahahahahaha


	23. Twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's morning in the skeleton brother's home, after such a hectic day. You've got something to say to the skeleton brothers, and you only hope they can understand.
> 
> Then again, you're beginning to not care for Sans' opinion anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. The sheer amount of support this story has received is phenomenal. I've been getting better at my writing - and much more confident, to be honest. I understand that while I am new to this whole writing scene, I do bring a different writing style to the table. It's been completely jarring to entrust this in the eyes of the internet, but honestly I am so overwhelmed by how much you guys love this story.
> 
> I think I'm confident enough now to start making longer chapters. So, here you go!

 “ _Sans,_ ” You press, letting go of his hand. You can’t help but feel a little queasy by his blatant offer, and your refusal is an immediate thought after everything you’ve just thought over. Well – not refusal, just… you _weren’t_ saying yes. And that was it, for now. “I told you; I need _time._ ”

 

Sans, as usual, is _very_ good at hiding his emotions. Only, you’re pretty sure you know his tells by now. The lights in his eyes feel steely as he looks you directly in the eyes, and he goes still. He’s stopped breathing. You feel bad for him, and while you don’t quite think you _regret_ last night, you’re not sure you think your relationship had been ready for that step. Maybe Sans had thought you were – because _damn,_ there was an obvious spark between the two of you – but you just couldn’t trust him so quickly.

 

“Can we go home now, Sans?” You ask kindly, looking him softly in the eyes. He sighs, shuffling a little closer. You can’t help but feel a little anxious.

 

“sure thing, pal.” He grabs your hand again, and suddenly, you’re back at the Skeleton brother’s home. It isn’t lost on you that Sans forgoes calling you sweetheart, and while his voice still sounds friendly, you know he’s purposely doing it. Maybe he’s trying to distance himself. _Good,_ you think, knowing space is definitely what you need – but perhaps not quite what you _want._

 

What you wanted didn’t matter, remember? You had Frisk to care about.

 

Warmly smiling at Sans, you let go of his hand and wonder into the kitchen. You’re pretty certain it’s nearly morning, so while you let Sans do his thing, you start breakfast. You’re a _l_ _ittle_  sick of Papyrus’ all-day-round favorite pasta dish. You wonder who even taught the skeleton how to cook – if you can call it teaching, or cooking, with the way he does it.

 

Shrugging outwardly at your thoughts, you hum to yourself as you begin to cook. You’re glad Sans went shopping the other day. There’s actual _real_ food in the fridge now, not just plastic containers upon plastic containers of spaghetti. It’s not until you have out some eggs (wondering where those came from) and some look-a-like bacon ( _where_ do they get _meat_ down here???) that you notice your cup from last night is sitting on the counter. It’s freezing to the touch, so you dump it out, blushing in the meanwhile as you remember some of the things that had happened.

 

No, now was _not_ the time. Remember? Cooking.

 

Right. Cooking.

 

Deciding to focus on the hand at task, you wondered what Sans was doing. You’d heard his footsteps go up the stairs, and had heard a door open – probably Papyrus’ room, since you didn’t hear the sound of a lock coming undone. You remember locking Frisk in their room then, suddenly feeling guilty. Maybe you should check on them. You did leave suddenly, and what if there’d been an emergency?

 

Biting your lip, you set the frying pan in hand down, leaving the kitchen. A horrible image of Frisk sobbing in the corner of Sans’ dark room plagued your thoughts, and it spurred you on. However, as you left the kitchen you heard a door shut and looked up to the balcony only to see Sans walking towards his own room from Papyrus’. He saw you, winked without a word, and undid the lock when he reached his room. You watched, confused but content, as Sans peered in for a few moments.

 

Maybe it was just habit for the skeleton to check in on his sleeping brother, so he’d thought to do the same for Frisk. Or maybe, he’d followed your train of thought, worrying for the kiddo. _Or_ he wanted to score brownie points. Whatever the case, you doubted it. A more troubling thought hit you, and you remembered when you saw Frisk in the snow, yesterday, wielding the knife above Alphys. Maybe he was checking in on Papyrus and Frisk because he thought they might have done something bad in his absence.

 

You noticed the sweat forming on the back of his skull, crossing your arms. That was most likely it – he was suspicious of Frisk, despite them being in a locked room. Maybe you were in slight denial about the whole Frisk covered in dusk thing with a knife in hand, but you weren’t going to let Sans treat them that way. Frisk was someone you loved – and they were a _good_ kid.

 

Right?

 

Shaking yourself out of that train of thought, you watched Sans pull away from his room and shut the door and went back into the kitchen. You should probably get breakfast done – more and more light was starting to stream in through the windows due to the Underground night-day cycles, and you wanted to have something ready for Frisk when you decided to talk to them.

 

Thirty minutes later and you’re continually having to bat Sans’ hands away from the look-a-like bacon, enough food on the table for all of you. The both of you have been waiting for what feels like a while now, but you’re determined to wait until everyone is up to start eating. Sans, however, just grumbles and pulls out a bottle of ketchup from god knows where, and starts to nurse on it.

 

You suddenly feel nervous, because you have the sudden thought that _maybe,_ it’s like alcohol to the skeleton. When you ask however, he just laughs, before shaking it off. He tells you, “no, it’s just food.” You think there’s a ketchup pun lost somewhere in the air between the two of you, but maybe Sans is still trying to get over what happened. You hope you didn’t hurt his feelings too badly.

 

It’s when you’re beginning to clean up, the food starting to cool on the table, that the sound of creaking wood catches your ears. You’re not quite sure how you missed hearing both of them get up, but suddenly you have two very sleepy looking, innocent, hungry people on your hands. Papyrus is dressed in a plush looking onesie, and Frisk is in his arms, snuggling with a yawn into his chest. Their hair is _everywhere_ and you laugh at the sight, heart bursting with warmth. You _do_ catch the way Sans seems nervous however, not quite relaxing until Papyrus puts Frisk down.

 

Frisk, ever the mute, slides up to the table without a question and begins serving themselves. Papyrus however, seems curious and slightly offended by the fact it’s not spaghetti before him.

 

“Don’t worry Pap.” You soothe, not wanting to upset the skeleton. You open the microwave, and inside is a plate of spaghetti you’d heated up in the meantime just in case. He squeals with delight as you set it in front of him, digging in. Sans eyes you appreciatively, not saying much other than serving himself some eggs and _drowning_ his plate in the rest of his ketchup. You and Frisk watch in barely contained horror as he eats it anyways, seeming to enjoy it.

 

Eventually you shrug out of it, serving yourself. It’s a quiet breakfast – there’s a tension in the air and everyone seems to be focusing on their food too much to try and break it. You inwardly sigh, before deciding you might as well should be the first to do something.

 

“I want to stay in Snowdin,” You begin, but before you can get much further, Papyrus leaps up so quickly into his signature pose the entire table nearly flips.

 

“THAT’S JOYOUS NEWS, HUMAN!” He states, and he’s smiling so wide even _your_ cheeks hurt. “I KNEW YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO RESIST STAYING WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS! YOU AND THE SMALL HUMAN ARE UNDOUBTABLY WELCOMED TO STAY HERE, IN SNOWDIN, WITH US. WE CAN EVEN TURN THE SHED INTO YOUR OWN LITTLE HOUSE! WE’D JUST NEED TO GET THE SMALL HUMAN A COLLAR AND –”

 

Papyrus is speaking so fast because you know he’s excited, but you blanch suddenly. “Uh, papyrus?” You interrupt, and the skeleton, seemingly surprised by your troubled expression, peers at you curiously. “I – I uh…” You pause, before looking at Frisk. You don’t want to admit to being the skeleton brother’s _pet_ in front of them. “Frisk, can you finish eating in the living room? You can watch TV if you want. We need to talk.”

 

Slightly indignant, Frisk complies but you can tell they’re annoyed by not being allowed to sit in on an adult conversation. Ever since you had become emancipated, you had always tried to include Frisk. You had never sheltered them from the reality of the world, but _did_ go out of your way to prevent them from knowing anything _too_ traumatic. Usually you’d let them hear in on things like this, but you were too embarrassed. Too _proud,_ you amended, to let your sibling know how you’d been treated by the two skeleton’s for your first days here.

 

Once Frisk was out of the room and Papyrus was once again sitting, he had a more serious, confused look. You sighed, knowing you’d have to let them know of what you were thinking. Suddenly, you felt so _tired._ You were tired of being an adult. All it’d ever been since falling into the underground was living a life dedicated to taking care of Frisk. The past few days when you hadn’t remembered – as guilty as you were to admit it – felt like the _freest_ times of your life. Despite everything.

 

“Maybe we can just… convince the monsters the whole pet thing was a dare or joke.” You propose, glancing to where you could see Frisk jumping up on the large couch, searching for the remote. “I don’t want Frisk to have to act like a _pet_ for the rest of their time here.”

 

“HUMAN, I THINK I UNDERSTAND.” Papyrus started, after a tense pause. Sans, next to you, only continued to smile and was now propping his head up with one hand, looking between you and his brother evenly. “BUT WHAT IF IT IS FOUND OUT THAT YOU’RE HUMAN? YOU COULD BE – WELL… HURT.”

 

You cringed, once again reminded Papyrus was still so _innocent_ in all of this. He still didn’t know exactly what would happen were you taken to Asgore, did he? You decided that you’d try to make him understand without telling him. “Well, Paps, so far everyone’s seen me and they still don’t know, do they? So long as no one tells them I’ll be fine.”

 

You can tell Papyrus is thinking this over, and you watch the gears turn in his head. Sans on the other hand, takes this opportunity to speak.

 

“as long as undyne or asgore don’t see you or kiddo over there, you should be fine.” Sans concludes, and you suddenly feel extremely relieved. You hadn’t really thought about it too much, but you were glad Sans seemed to agree with you. Both of you turned to Papyrus now, the skeleton starting to fidget nervously.

 

“BUT WHAT ABOUT UNDYNE? I FEEL BAD FOR LYING TO HER.” Papyrus wrings his hands together, starting to sweat with a grimace. “I CARE FOR YOU, HUMAN, BUT I ALSO CAN’T JUST LIE TO UNDYNE. I’M CERTAIN THE TWO OF YOU COULD BE FRIENDS…”

 

“Pap…” You’re not quite sure what to say. You knew if Papyrus knew the full extent of revealing you to Undyne would be, he’d be mortified. But at the same time, you couldn’t do that to him. You couldn’t tear him apart like that. “Please, Papyrus.” You plead, reaching out and taking one of his fidgeting hands in your own. “You’ve can’t tell Undyne. It’s not like you’re lying to her, anways. You just don’t mention us. Maybe one day… but not soon. Okay?”

 

Papyrus seems to sigh, relaxing his hand in your own. It takes both your hands, you realize, for you to hold one of his large ones properly. He’s so _huge_ , and you smile in relief because he seems to finally understand. You’re glad Papyrus is the kind one, while Sans is… well. “I TRUST YOU HUMAN. YOU ARE A GOOD HUMAN, YOU KNOW THAT, CORRECT?”

 

You smile up at him, ignoring the way Sans’ eyes burn into you. You’re beginning to grow used to the feeling of your sins crawling along your back.

 

You don’t _feel_ like a good person, but you _do_ feel **determined**.

 

“Thank you, Pap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of trivia;
> 
> I meant for this story to be a hard-ass Underfell story with BDSM, Noncon, and a /lot/ of bad unmentionable things. The title was made with all of this in mind, and on a whims notice.
> 
> Now look at this fluffy angsty monstrosity.
> 
> I love it.


	24. Twenty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You come home from work, relieved to finally relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, had some personal issues to deal with. Feels great to write again.
> 
> As for now, I'm tired as fuck and have a brand new memory foam mattress to break in.
> 
> Yay.

Thank goodness your shift was over – waving goodbye to your employer, Grillby, you smiled as the fire elemental bid you a silent farewell from across the room. Walking out of the restaurant you were hit by a wall of cold air, causing you to shiver into the warmth of your red hoodie. You would think that after being in Snowdin for almost two weeks now you would get you used to the chill, but unfortunately not. Despite the snow swirling and dancing in the air around you, you smiled anyways. It was a beautiful night out – and soon, you’d be in the warmth of your home at the skeleton brother’s, with Frisk.

 

Your heart soared at the thought of Frisk. You couldn’t wait to hear how their first day at school went. You’d been so hesitant and resistant in letting them go. ( _What if they were recognized as a human? What if they were made fun of? What do they even teach at a monster school? Would frisk be getting a good education?)_

Of all this, Sans and Papyrus had reassured you time and time again, Frisk all the while giving you puppy dog eyes and the occasional signed please. You caved in eventually, and soon you’d find out if it worked out or not. Thankfully the residents of Snowdin were easily swayed at that the idea of you being a pet just being a bet you lost, the monsters happy to accept you into Snowdin.

 

Trudging through the snow, you looked around the town. Plenty of monsters were in sight, gathered here and there in the cold clearing. You received a few pitying glances – the rabbit at the store had looked so worried that you didn’t have any fur – and you only smiled and waved in return. That seemed to either brighten them up, or cause them to blush.

 

You laughed to yourself and kept going on – monsters were so _kind._ Kinder than any human you had _ever_ met. It was sad, honestly. Of what Sans told you, they were mainly misunderstood and mistaken, and you could clearly see that now. Every monster you’d met so far had been so compassionate and expressive. Par Flowey – but you weren’t even sure if he _was_ a monster or not. You shivered – something was _wrong_ with that flower.

 

Deciding to turn those thoughts away, you arrived at your destination. Before you could open the door to the house, however, it was opened for you. A small blur darted out of the house, attaching itself to your legs, gripping you tightly. Smiling, you ruffled Frisk’s hair, as they looked up at you. They were smiling – that was a good sign.

 

“C’mon Frisk. Don’t want you to freeze out here.” You herded them indoors, shutting the door behind you. Frisk ran into the kitchen as you took off your jacket, placing it on the table. Sans was sitting on the couch like he was trying to become a part of it – which you were sure he was pretty close to becoming – raised a hand and waved in recognition. You smiled uneasily.

 

You and Sans’ relationship had continued to be a strenuous one. You both seemed to tiptoe on eggshells around one another, and thus far refused to be in a room alone together. At least – that’s how it always turned out to be. And you didn’t mind, to be honest. You were still trying to decide whether or not you hated him.

 

Okay, so you didn’t hate him. But you were pretty damn suspicious and confused.

 

As far as you could tell, Sans always had his eyes on Frisk. Whenever Frisk was gone, he was gone. When Frisk was home, he was usually within eyesight of them. Sans never slept until Frisk was tucked away in the garage – still under renovations – with the door locked. You didn’t understand _why_ he was so anal about keeping an eye on Frisk.

 

But then again you still refused to think about what Frisk did. Frisk couldn’t have, could they?

 

You’re shaken from your thoughts when Frisk comes out of the kitchen, holding a piece of paper in their hands.

 

**Here. I made this in class today!**

Frisk signed with ease, and you smiled, taking the paper from them. Colored on it was you, Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus standing in front of a forest. You always cherished Frisk’s drawings – the kid had a great talent for it, and you kept them as much as you could. In this one, you were holding Frisk on your shoulders, smiling up at them. Papyrus was posing dramatically with his hands on his hips, and Sans was leaning against his brother, winking as a few Z’s floated in the air besides him.

 

“Thank you Frisk,” You bent down and hugged them tightly, feeling them struggle to get away. Out of spite you held them tighter until they went limp. “Oh no!” You cried in fake horror as Frisk slipped out of your grip and lied limp onto the carpet. They were smiling despite it all. “I crushed Frisk!”

 

Suddenly Frisk stuck out their tongue, springing up from the floor and signing at you excitedly.

 

**Can I go play in Papyrus’ room? He said I could!**

 

Since Papyrus was out god who knows where, you looked to Sans, who had an eye-socket out for the whole exchange, and nodded when he shrugged. Squealing with delight Frisk ran away towards Papyrus’ room. They’d been enchanted by the taller skeleton’s action figures and comics the first time they’d laid sight on them, and had bonded with Papyrus over them for the past few days. You’d been glad Papyrus always seemed more than happy to care for and distract them. You’d just been feeling too emotionally drained.

 

Sighing, you went over to the couch and laid out on the farthest end from Sans. The air was thick and awkward, this being the first time the two of you had been alone since… well…

 

Sans seems to notice this, because he was sweating and scratching the back of his skull. You just tried to focus on the MTT brand show, watching as Mettaton cooks, somehow serenades a monster princess, and hosts a quiz show all at the same time. It’s quite confusing, to be honest.

 

You’re about to speak and try to break the ice when the door bursts open, Papyrus grinning happily as the comes inside.

 

“HUMAN! I HAVE GRAND NEWS!” Relieved, you smile up at Papyrus as he stands in front of you and Sans, his hands on his hips.

 

“what’s that, pap?” Sans asks, and he also sounds relieved.

 

“C’mon Pappy,” you smile, sickly sweet. “ _patella_ me what’s up.”

 

Sans snickers alongside you as Papyrus’ face turns red, his eye-socket's narrowing in anger. You’re surprised Papyrus can even manage such an expression, before he sighs and frowns. “AHEM! AS I WAS SAYING, BEFORE YOU MADE THAT HORRIBLE WORD PLAY, I WAS GOING TO SAY THAT ALPHYS WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU, HUMAN. IN HER LAB. SHE CALLED ME AND ASKED IF I COULD TAKE YOU THERE TOMORROW, WHILE FRISK WAS AT SCHOOL.”

 

You’re surprised to hear from Alphys again, but not too surprised she wants you to come to her. While Frisk is at school. You can’t blame her – Frisk must’ve scared her senseless. Sans seems quiet, as you think it over, Papyrus standing there for your response.

 

“Alright. So long as you show me the way, pappy.” You relent, knowing it might be fun. Besides, you had the next two days off and you’d been wanting to meet Alphys for a while now – _really_ meet her. Not overhear a conversation she was in or run into her before – nope. Not going to think about it.

 

Papyrus grins, posing dramatically. “OF COURSE, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL LEAD YOU THROUGH WATERFALL TO HOTLAND. THERE WE SHALL SEE ALPHYS AND MAYBE SHE CAN SHOW YOU WHAT THIS ‘ANIME’ IS. SHE IS REALLY INTERESTED IN IT. IT’S LIKE MY COMIC BOOKS, BUT MUCH DIFFERENT! AFTER SHE TALKS TO YOU, THAT IS!”

 

“sounds like you’ve got plans, sweetheart.” Sans murmurs, and you shrug. Seemed better than waiting around all day for Frisk to come home, only to play in the snow afterwards and eat more spaghetti.

 

“Guess so.” You smiled, leaning back as you were filled with **determination**. It’d be fun to see the rest of the underground with Papyrus as your guide. What could possibly go wrong?

 

Why the _hell_ did you have to think _that?_


	25. Twenty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus is leaving you. Alone.

Waterfall is beautiful – at least, of what you’ve seen so far. The sentry station Papyrus has led you towards is abandoned but the tell-tale signs of ketchup, mustard, relish, and other bottles of condiments mark Sans’ handiwork. The illuminous glowing flower growing beside it just barely reaches the height of just above your waist and seems to beckon you forward. It’s beautiful – just like the damp, crystal-lit pathways of the area you’ve found yourself in.

 

Papyrus only seems to smile as you take in your surroundings, the two of you prepared for the journey ahead. The tall skeleton eagerly explains to you the flowers are called Echo Flowers and will repeat the last thing they hear, and that Waterfall is the area in-between Hotland and Snowdin. He seems just as eager as you are to traverse the starry cavern, having made you pack for a days’ worth of traveling. There’s plenty of food and even a sleeping bag – just incase, Papyrus had assured you – stored in the backpack settled on your shoulders.

 

You’re messing with the Echo Flower as Papyrus looks on when a sound that suspiciously resembles a ringtone makes you jump. You turn towards the source of the sound watching a very surprised Papyrus pulls out a phone from god knows where, answering curiously. There’s a loud voice on the other end, and despite the screaming you can’t tell if it’s a guy or girl. You can’t even really make out whatever it is they’re saying even at their current volume.

 

“YES, WELL… ALRIGHT. I SEE. I’M SORRY.” Papyrus glances at you, jaw set into a tight grimace. “MHM YES WELL, IM BUSY…” He flinches when they yell even louder, and even you jump at the sound. “OKAY. ALRIGHT. I’M COMING.”

 

What?

 

Papyrus seems to have a serious expression for once, jaw set as he looks you over. He at least has the decency to look slightly embarrassed and guilty that he’s _leaving you_ (?!). “I AM SORRY, HUMAN. IT SEEMS I HAVE NEGLECTED TO ATTEND TO MY DUTIES AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS. THEREFOR, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS – AS PREVIOUSLY ESTABLISHED – MUST GO TO ATTEND THIS BUSINESS. I TRUST YOU CAN TRAVERSE WATERFALL ON YOUR OWN, HUMAN. IT IS A SHAME, HOWEVER, THAT I WILL NOT BE THERE TO GUIDE YOU THROUGH!”

 

He seems genuinely upset that he’s not joining you, however. You’re still trying to realize what he really means – you, alone, in the underground – before he poses dramatically and laughs. It makes you flinch slightly, but Papyrus doesn’t seem to notice. Thankfully – you have the sudden thought of him being very frightened about scaring you.

 

“It’s okay, Pap.” You lie through your teeth, horrified at the thought of going on alone. But Papyrus _had_ said you’d get through fine. You would, right? I mean, you’d been through the ruins on your own, and it’d actually been quite relaxing. Then again, there was the fear of being caught. Suddenly what you’ve agreed to catches in your throat and you swallow, hoping the bad taste will just go away. You’ve just agreed to going through waterfall _alone_ , and Papyrus is looking rather happy with actual fucking _stars_ in his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“HUMAN, DO NOT WORRY. I WANT TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU WILL BE SAFE – ALPHYS IS WATCHING, AND MOST MONSTERS HERE DON’T KNOW WHAT A, WELL… what a human looks like.” He whispers, and your surprised he even knows _how_ to whisper. “I KNOW YOU’LL DO WELL AND BE JUST FINE, HUMAN.”

 

You really, really aren’t going to be ‘JUST FINE’. But Papyrus just smiles, and scoops you up for a hug. A really big hug. Like your going away for war kind of hug. You feel like he’s _crushing_ you along with the fear tightening your chest, and in a desperate attempt to get him off without rejecting him, you do something drastic.

 

“Pap – this uh, this hug –”

 

He hums, just holding you tighter, your feet a little off of the ground. God, you knew Papyrus was a hugger, but it’s like he suddenly just doesn’t know _how_ to let go. He’s going to hate you for what you’re about to say –

 

“It’s a little _bone crushing_ don’t you –” But before you can finish your sentence, he drops you and is running away with a shriek. You land flat on your ass, the air knocked out of you, but not having fallen hard enough for it to really hurt. You’re just a little surprised when you turn to see Papyrus turning to wave at you as he run furthers into Waterfall. Leaving you. Alone.

 

_Why couldn’t the two of you walked together?_

This question plagues you as you pull yourself off of the ground, hoping you can retain all of the information Papyrus had previously informed you about Waterfall. From Echo Flowers to a sky that _almost_ looks like stars – crystals, but still as beautiful – to a snail farm where snail races are all the rage and a monster named Aaron that is nowhere near as good as Undyne as suplexing boulders(!).

 

Your blood chills when you remember Papyrus telling you Undyne lived in Waterfall. Maybe that’s who he was meeting – _Oh!_ It clicked. That must’ve been her on the phone – Papyrus had told you during the past few days that he and Undyne usually trained every day, only he’d been staying home lately to help you and Frisk get acquainted in the house. She sounded upset on the phone – then again, from what you’ve heard, Undyne sounded like a very… uh, intense person. Monster?

 

No, wait, monsters were people too, damn it. Can’t be racist.

 

Racist? Or is it speciest?

 

You shake your heard of these thoughts, and with a heave to the bag strapped on your back to make sure it’s situated comfortably, you decide you might as well try and follow the path Papyrus went. He did say Undyne’s house was on the way to Alphy’s lab. So off you go now, onto an unknown, potentially deadly part of the underground, alone, with nothing but what you’d learned of monster confrontations in the ruins. Hopefully, no such thing would happen here.

 

Filled with **determination** , you marched ahead with a curse under your lips, deciding to push the blame onto Sans. Why the hell not, anyways? He deserved it.


	26. Twenty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waterfall is absolutely /full/ of surprises, as you run into monster after monster after... er, robot? You're not quite sure.
> 
> Also, Gaster!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, pals, chums, homeslices, you guys are the best.
> 
> Like I'm not even going to attempt to try and explain how much I appreciate all of you and the absolute fuck-ton of support this story has.
> 
> Like seriously. This is my only hobby that I feel really comfortable with and it's so nice to see for a person with anxiety about myself and publishing that I haven't fucked this up yet. You guys are the best. Thank you.

Waterfall is absolutely gorgeous. You could imagine living here if it ever came down to it. The only thing you were worried about was Undyne – and well, the fact that there was a certain smell in the air… You just didn’t know how the describe it, but it just… it was a constant reminder that you were _underground._ Like the smell of rain on cement. Or limestone. Or even dirt, maybe.

 

Snowdin didn’t have that smell, while here and The Ruins did. Maybe it was the crisp snow that continually fell.

 

The other reminder was that the beautiful curtain of multi-colored diamonds in the sky above _wasn’t_ the stars you were used to. A quick look up reminded you of this every time you couldn’t pick out some of the constellations you’d grown so accustomed to perusing Frisk with. Maybe you didn’t own a telescope, but that didn’t mean you and Frisk didn’t try to get acquainted to knowing your ways around an astronomy book.

 

Besides the spectacular setting, the whole environment seemed to _thrive_ and hum with life. There were monsters of all shapes and sizes here and there. One monster – a Washua, was determined on cleaning you so thoroughly until you were without a single speck of dirt. Another, Moldsmall – as you were delighted to see, despite it having being a different Moldsmall – does something rather… unexpected when you flirt back with them. It’s not quite the reaction you’re looking for when they suddenly double in size.

 

Most monsters you see here are harmless and happy to greet you. You’re pretty certain while they’re confused on seeing a monster unlike any other, they don’t assume or even recognize you as human. They are even more confused when  they can pull you into a confrontation – to which you shudder at the reminder of ‘battling’ Flowey and Toriel, but you’re quick to reassure and ACT in whatever means necessary. Eventually, you realize this is nothing less than a pleasant trip through a beautiful new terrain to which you can take as much time – or as long as it takes you to go through your food – to explore.

 

All of the puzzles you come across seem simple compared to some of even Papyrus’ easiest puzzles, and you wonder fondly how he might’ve narrated each one as the two of you passed through them. Too bad he was off with Undyne, _hopefully_ distracting her.

 

The Echo Flowers seem to grow more and more beautiful as you pass on through, listening to what they each have to say. They mainly whisper sweet nothings, nonsense picked up from being around so many passing monsters. It’s still a brilliant quirk that you marvel at that these little blue glowing flowers can repeat sounds. Something that does have some substance, however, is the panels laid out on the walls. It’s interesting, to be perfectly honest, and as you start to read them you’re reminded of everything Sans told you about what happened to monsters and humans.

 

It's a sad tale nevertheless and it has you wondering for the next few minutes with a melancholy smile on your face.

 

It’s not until you’ve gone across a rather large dock that stretches through a dark room of Waterfall that you reach an eerie feeling hallway. No one’s in here, and you can’t hear _anything_ besides the mute echo of your own heartbeat – not to mention there’s a _grey door_ on the wall to the left, beckoning for you to open.

 

You pause before it, hand outstretched. You’re almost too afraid to touch the doorknob – you’re not quite sure _what_ you’re expecting, except there’s this presence in the air that seems to electrify and weigh you down at the same time. Some part of it even feels _familiar,_ and you’re terrified about what this sudden culmination of feelings means.

 

Finally putting your hand on the very cold grey doorknob, you try to turn the door – only it won’t open.

 

**_(_ ** **very _interesting.)_**

****

You jump back, hand retracted to your chest like you’ve been burnt. Your back is to the far wall now, your eyes looking for any source of the voice you’ve just heard. Well, voice might not be the best thing to call that _sound._ It’s like a bunch of hisses and clacking noises, and it seems to originate from everywhere at once. Even then, for some unfathomable reason, you can _understand_ what they’re saying.

****

**_(you’re not supposed to be here yet._ **

**_come back later,_ **

**_when it’s not quite as dark.)_ **

****

“Wh-who’s there?” Your voice breaks and sounds weak in the silence, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve broken some taboo by speaking because the hisses grow silent, once again leaving you to the sound of your own heartbeat. Suddenly, there’s a sound that’s awfully close to a laugh, making you shrink back in fear.

 

**_(i don’t_ ** **mean _to_ scare _you, human._**

**_besides, you are terribly interesting,_ **

**_and I don’t mind your soul’s company at all._ **

**_especially for something that shouldn’t exist._ **

**_…_ **

**_relax.)_ **

 

It’s the second to last sentence that finally makes you bolt, running down the hall and far away from the door and the silence. From behind you trails a long and drawn out sigh, but you’re too far gone to care. Your heart is like a jack rabbit in your ears, pounding blood as you try to get away from the strange voice and hallway. You can’t help but be terrified – and wish that you were brave enough to face whatever that was (they didn’t seem to have any bad intentions whatsoever). It was just _too_ much. You’d felt like you were suffocating just by being in that hallway.

 

In your attempt to run away from what feels like a crushing weight on your chest you pass by a telescope and another hallway, and into an open space filled with illuminous water and growing vegetation. The paths here are partially made of islands in the illuminous lake and bridges connecting them, Echo Flowers sprouting up here and there. You stop in the middle of this room next to a large cluster of Echo Flowers, bent over with your hands on your knees to try and catch your breath.

 

“Why, _hello_ darling!”

 

You swear to whatever deity there is out there that you jump straight up three feet off the ground in surprise, turning to face the owner of the new voice. While you _know_ it’s not the voice you’ve been hearing, you’re still a little rattled when you come face to face with… a talking… giant… calculator?

 

Wait. Is this thing the robot from T.V.?

 

“Aw, no need to be so shy, beautiful!” The robot crows, it’s pixilated display lighting up to match its voice. The rectangular shaped robot seems to bob on its single leg, or rather, wheel, and it’s two arms animatedly move to accompany the lights on its display. It holds out a hand, a pixel smiley face on screen. “It’s an absolute _pleasure_ to meet you kitten,” The machine purrs, so far being the absolute most eccentric thing you’ve run across in the underground. Besides Papyrus, that is. You’re feeling even _more_ overwhelmed. “I’m Mettaton – and you are…?”

 

You take its hand cautiously, expecting some kind of plot twist, only for him to happily shake your hand as you tell him your name. “It’s, uh… nice to meet you. I’ve watched some of your shows in Snowdin.” You supply, feeling at a loss.

 

Suddenly, he swoons, a bright blush animating across his screen. “Oh, _really?_ A _darling_ _beautiful_ _angel_ like you has seen _my_ show? It’s so good to see you humans have such spectacular tastes! It’s such a shame this is the first time I’m meeting you, darling. Such a gem like yourself shouldn’t be locked up in Snowdin _all_ the time!”

 

You decide to refrain from telling him he’s the _only_ thing on the damned T.V., and either way, Papyrus was head over heels for the damn robot and would refuse to watch anything else if he had a choice. Instead, you smile shyly, really not feeling that you deserve to be the sudden center of attention for this robot. Sure, he’d always seemed a little _much_ on his T.V. shows, but like all actors you had never assumed that was his _real_ persona. And yet, here he is, as eccentric as ever.

 

“Well, er, I’m actually on my way to Hotland right now…” you supply during an eager pause, suddenly feeling extremely nervous as you realized he _knew_ you were a human. “Could you – could you not tell anyone about me?”

 

The robot seems to lean in as your voice turns into a small whisper, mainly because you’re afraid he’s going to immediately begin telling _everyone_ you’re a human. He pauses and his display flickers vividly, then he hums, suddenly seeming much quieter than before.

 

“Alright, darling. Tell you what – I won’t tell a _soul_ so long as you promise to visit me in Hotland at Alphy’s lab sometime. I’d love to get to know such a darling creature as yourself.” Blushing, you nod furiously, _extremely_ glad he seemed to not only be a good monster(robot?), but a good person in general.

 

“I can do that.” You promise, smiling weakly as Mettaton sways in a more excited manor. “I’m actually headed on my way there now. How about you?” You ask, deciding to stick a little more out of your shell.

 

“Oh, I’m actually headed somewhere else right now, darling. What a shame.” He sighs dramatically, and you swear if he had lips he’d be pouting right now, his robotic hands on his hips (that is, if he had any). “I can give you directions, however. If you need them that is.”

 

You nod, and Mettaton begins to give you directions, making sure you have them cemented in your mind before letting you go your separate ways. By then you’ve grown a little more accustomed to the robot, and even a laugh is shared between the two of you (to which he calls your laugh adorable and you have the slightest idea that _maybe_ he’s _flirting_ with you).

 

“Bye, Mettaton!” You smile, waving as the robot begins to roll away, waving back to you.

 

“Oh, goodbye darling! Do stay safe! And tell Alphy’s that I send my love!”

 

And with that you watch as he turns out of the large room and out of sight, **determined** that you now know your way.

 

You’ve forgotten completely by now about the door and the weird voice.


	27. Twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You journey through Waterfall, but you're not really alone, are you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey oh my gosh, two chapters in one day! What is this madness?
> 
> Hahaha it's only filler hahaha
> 
> Don't worry next chapter gets really fucking spicy.

The rest of Waterfall, thanks to a certain eccentric robot’s help, passes by in a breeze. There’s even more oddities you pass by that both Mettaton and Papyrus had told you about, and you don’t hesitate to investigate each one.

 

Firstly, there’s a rather sad monster by the name of Onionsan that wants nothing more than a better place to live and someone to talk to – you spend nearly an hour chatting with him, trying to cheer him up as he struggles to stay happy about not having anything more than four hundred cubic feet of swimming space to live in – this only furthers to cement your determination in breaking the barrier, no matter what Sans says or the fact that Frisk is now down here with you.

 

But you can’t do it yet, obviously. A large part of you wants to stay just a little bit longer.

 

Next, you meet Shyren, a lovely monster with a beautiful singing voice that needs a little coaxing to leave her shell. Eventually you’ve lulled her into singing for you, and once the tune she sings starts becoming repetitive, you sing along with her. She’s absolutely _thrilled_ and seeing the previously shy monster so happy has you beaming.

 

Then there’s a statue of a cloaked figure sitting beneath a hole in the ceiling of stone where rain repeatedly pours on them, to which you quickly amend by placing an umbrella – once you find them – over their form. Immediately a lovely tune that sadly reminds you of Toriel (for some strange reason) starts to ring out hauntingly from the statue. You move on quickly then, grabbing a cerulean blue umbrella for yourself. It wouldn’t do well to get soaked on your way to Alphys’ lab, now would it?

 

It’s not long until you’re on a long walk along a cliff face, staring out into the cavernous space that is the underground. Rain pours down from unseeing forces – _magic –_ and you can see the capital for all its glory. It’s a beautiful sight as the mimic stars shine down in full brilliance, and you stand there for a few minutes to enjoy the view. You know you’ve probably wasted a lot of time already, but it’s not like you would’ve gone much faster traveling with Papyrus or Mettaton. Besides, Alphys’ must know by now you’re traveling on your own, right? She had cameras in the ruins, so why not elsewhere in the Underground as well?

 

It’s not too long until your putting your umbrella away and a beefcake of a monster is chatting you up. “Aaron,” he introduces, flexing at you. Giggling, you flex back with what guns you have, initiating a war. At least until Aaron flexes his way out of the room much to your amusement. You spend the next few moments trying to compose yourself, laughing uproariously at the monster’s antics.

 

There’s more history, you note, as you walk through another long segment of docks, walking through what almost seems like a maze of the structures. It’s not until you reach a dead end, having exhausted all paths of the architecture – accidently having forgotten what Mettaton said to do at this point – that you have a bit of a scare. The wood beneath you begins to creak and groan before suddenly your cartwheeling in midair, screaming with burning lungs.

 

Everything goes dark when you hit the ground.

 

 

 

 

When you finally recover, you jolt awake with a gasp of air, prepared to scream. Wherever you are reminds you horribly akin to first waking up in the ruins, a convenient bed of golden flowers growing beneath you. Like the flowers in the ruins they don’t crumple beneath your weight and pop back up into shape the moment you move off of them, their golden petals shimmering under the illuminous lights of Waterfall. You’re surprised and relieved to find that besides being a little dizzy and sporting a few new bruises, that you’re fine. You stand up, brushing yourself off, and do your best to see if you can move forward. Luckily, you can, and you decide to move a little more cautiously now.

 

Your cautiousness pays off as you realize you’re in what seems to be a garbage dump, trash of all kinds – mainly what seems to be sorted human items – is piled in the water around you. Speaking of the ankle-deep water, your shoes are soaked and you decide with a sigh to abandon your socks in fear of them remaining wet and causing you future pain. Swamp foot was something you _did not_ want to play around with.

 

You can see the exit to the dump when you’re suddenly forced into a confrontation by a _very_ irate dummy, the dummy angrily explaining he’s a ghost that feels _extremely_ upset that you’ve just gone and ignored him – you hadn’t _known_ you try and supply, to which he only scoffs. Now, here you are, trying to reason with a mad dummy that constantly screams at what seems to be other dummy’s (more ghosts, maybe?) who are only trying their best. You feel bad for them, mainly because you don’t mean for the attacks that you dodge to come flying his way.

 

Eventually, when you’re starting to become exhausted and tired as the dummy pulls out a fucking _knife,_ something akin to rain begins to fall on the Dummy’s head. Screaming profanity’s, the dummy runs off, as someone else floats down from the ceiling and you’re at a loss for words. This new arrival actually _looks_ like a ghost, their body resembling a see-through bedsheet, two dark black holes with white iris’ set as their eyes.

 

Immediately they began to apologize about interrupting something, and before you could even get a word in, they were putting all sorts of words in your mouth, saying their name was Napstablook and they were so sorry and that they would just leave and bye and yeah… Once again you were a little overwhelmed, but didn’t pursue them… they seemed a little more overwhelmed then _you_ did, and that was saying something. That didn’t mean, if given then chance, you weren’t going to try and talk to them in the future.

 

Putting it off you continued on, cautiously, a little wearier about what Waterfall might now have to offer. Deciding to ignore any of the side paths at this point, you only forged on ahead, knowing you’d wasted enough time as is. Besides you were exhausted and were certain a full day had passed by now and you were absolutely sure you were almost there. Hopefully Alphys’ would let you crash at her place or _something –_ as soon as you figured out what she wanted to talk about. Whatever it was, it had better be good.

It’s not long at all until you’re facing down a mountain of stone, cool air at your back and a staunching heat wafting out from an entry in the rock face’s opening. You’re ready, you think, and so you march ahead, **determined.**


	28. Twenty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said;
> 
> Shit goes down.

The first thing you notice is the overwhelming _heat._ It’s literally as hot as hell in here, and yet standing to your immediate left is a sentry station filled with condiment bottles, that you’re very quickly beginning to relate to as Sans’ handiwork. Something that does strike you as odd however, is that there is literal fucking _snow_ on the roof of the sentry station.

 

Confused beyond all belief, you reach up and your hand comes away with a handful of white pristine snow that is quickly melting in your hand. Looking up, the snow on the roof of the sentry building looks unmarred, as if you haven’t just taken a handful. Slightly weirded out, you just chalk it up to magic.

 

The walkways before you are a little narrow, and you’re a just a ‘ _little’_ frightened when you cross a bridge between platforms over boiling _lava – there’s no fucking ropes or rails!_ But you make it safe and sound to the other side, where the fruit of your labors wait in the form of a water cooler, filled with actually _cold_ water. Deciding to take your fill, you’re not surprised the water amount doesn’t seem to go down no matter how much you drink out of it. Once again, magic.

 

Certain you can see a building looming up ahead you wave to a nearby clam-type looking monster, before journeying ahead. It’s not long until the building looms ahead of you, the letters ‘L A B’ printed in bright, bold, red letters above the door. Deciding that _maybe_ this was the lab, you head inside as the doors open automatically.

 

Sighing into the cool air-conditioned space, you’re met with a large empty room colored in soothing green-blue tones. The entry hallway you’re standing in is preventing you from really seeing the full space, but so far you can see a cluttered desk and monitor, along with a fridge and workshop. You think you can hear shouting and the revving of a motor – the voice is someone familiar – but you don’t _see_ anyone. It’s not until you really step inside the room that you see what’s making all that noise.

 

To your immediate left is a very large television screen, and on it, Mettaton is chasing Frisk with a chainsaw as Papyrus yells in the background.

 

You swear your heart has stopped beating, as you take note of where they are. They’re in the forest around Snowdin – the camera angle seems to somehow follow from behind Mettaton as he follows Frisk’s tiny footsteps in the snow, the roar of the chainsaw deafening what you can tell is Papyrus yelling in a frantic manner. Papyrus must’ve headed home after finishing with Undyne, you think mutely.

 

_Where’s Sans?_

You reach a hand out as if you can actually grab the lying robot and beat him to a hunk of scrap metal right there and then, only to stop when you hear a door sliding open.

 

A very confused and frightened looking Alphys stands there across the room, just as you remember her from a week ago. Good, that makes two of you that are _very_ frightened and confused.

 

“Alphys…?” You question, as she begins to shake uncontrollably. “What’s this?” You ask.

 

She _had_ to be responsible for this, right? She _was_ the royal scientist. Mettaton was _her_ invention. Why else would he be doing this? To _Frisk_ of all people! You could hear Frisk _screaming,_ begging for _mercy!_ The kid hardly _ever_ spoke, and yet here they were, crying for someone, for _you_ to save them. But here you were. In Hotland.

 

Like it was some kind of planned trap.

 

Alphys looks like she’s about to say something – or maybe not. She’s shaking violently, and there’s tears running down her cheeks.

 

“I should fucking _kill_ you.” You spit, a thudding hopelessness rising in your chest. You’ve figured it out, and all you can feel is an empty kind of mute anger. Besides, your speaking hot air right now – you’re too exhausted, too tired to even try and attempt at going through on your threat. Not that you would. “Why, Alphys?”

 

“I-I-I was s-so scared!” She sobbed, clutching herself as she broke down. You couldn’t help but feel wrong and reel back as you felt your soul cry out for the poor monster. “I saw – I saw fr-frisk kill _all_ of t-them! Ev-everyone in – in the Ruins!”

 

_Toriel._

You took in a sudden breath, trying to clear your head. You’d been denying it for so long. Denying seeing Frisk covered in dust with a blood lustful smile on their face as they stood above Alphys with a wicked knife. Your baby sibling couldn’t – _wouldn’t_ hurt anyone, would they?

 

But There was no refuting the evidence, was there?

 

But Frisk had tried so _hard_ for the past few days. Not like a killer trying to feign innocence, but a child realizing they’d done something _unforgiveable,_ constantly seeking every little bit of forgiveness and permission they could, even if you just chalked it down to being weary of a new setting.

 

You’d ignored everything, and you suddenly _knew_ Alphys’ fear wasn’t unjust That didn’t mean she had any right to send a killer fucking robot after Frisk. _Your_ Frisk.

 

“Alphys – I…” you pause, trying to fight back tears. This was all so _wrong._ And now you were going to sit here and watch Mettaton, a robot you’d not too long ago laughed with, murder your sibling. And where the fuck was Sans during all this? Was he just going to let Frisk die?

 

All of a sudden you noticed the roar of the chainsaw had died down – now, all you could hear was Alphy’s and Frisk’s sobbing as a _very_ familiar voice sounded through the screen.

 

“I’m usually a pretty _ice, snow-_ kay guy, but i gotta hand it to ya, you overgrown calculator,” Suddenly Sans was standing between a silent Mettaton and a curled up, sobbing Frisk who was lying in a silent, serious looking Papyrus’ arms. “you really get _under my skin_.”

 

Then the feed cut out, replaced by a blank screen, leaving you alone in Alphys’ lab with the sobbing monster.

 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at the screen, until eventually you couldn’t see anymore as your vision blurred with tears. Slowly but surely you took in a shuddering breath, trying not to sob as you choked it back out. Alphys was still a total wreak, sobbing and crying as she babbled about anything and everything, but mostly about how scared she was. You were trying your damned hardest not to join her.

 

Eventually, however, you weren’t _too_ surprised to hear something heavy dropping on the floor. You turned, only to see Sans with Mettaton on the ground besides him, the robot sparking and twitching with bones impaled in his body. Alphys only became more hysterical as you collapsed into a sobbing mess, wishing nothing more than to just be home, at the skeleton brother’s house, watching Frisk and Papyrus play with action figures while you cooked dinner and Sans sat in the living room. That was all you wanted.

 

Not… this.


	29. Twenty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphys is /broken/, and you know what that feels like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely /adore/ Alphys. Especially since I relate so fucking much to her.

“i hope you’ve got a good reason, al’, why I shouldn’t just **d u s t  y o u  w h e r e  y o u  s t a n d.** ”

 

Sans is the very meaning of wrathful, despite his usual getup. He’s still wearing a blue hoodie, shorts, and slippers, but the dark empty pits of his eyes and the wet oil – or whatever it is that’s leaking out of Mettaton’s body – soaking his clothes makes him look horrifying. He really looks like a skeleton now, his entire body rigid still. He’s not breathing, he’s not shifting, and there’s no wintry breeze to animate him.

 

He looks terrifying.

 

Alphys is a blubbering mess when you finally collect yourself, and you’re certain a few minutes has passed with the two of you crying and Sans watching silently. He’s made no move to comfort you, all eyes on Alphys – and part of you is glad, while another part wishes he would tell you everything was alright. That Frisk hadn’t just been chased by a murderous robot intent on killing them. That you hadn’t been played for a fool, and that everything was _just fine._

It’s then that you notice the skulls, two giant monstrous beings floating in the air besides Sans as the three bone monsters turn to face Alphys. Their eyes are dark pits much like Sans, and each is the same size as the monster who seems to control them. They look like a mix between goat and dragon skulls, jagged bony teeth shining in the clinical lights of the lab.

 

There’s tears running down your cheeks and your face feels red, swollen, and puffy. You just watch as Sans stares levelly at the scientist and you’re one hundred percent certain that if you don’t do anything he’s going to kill her. Maybe you should let him – but that wouldn’t be right, now would it? Alphys did what she did out of _fear –_

Just like Frisk, if you were right. Frisk wouldn’t have hurt all those monsters without good reason, right? She must’ve been _terrified,_ after you disappeared to hike Mt. Ebott, and hadn’t come back. She probably thought you’d been killed by the monsters down here or something. That could be the only reason – and now, here it was repeating before your very eyes. And once again, you could save another Frisk, only this time it being Alphys. And it wasn’t your sibling. Just a depressed monster that looked like they just didn’t know what to do anymore.

 

You’d be lying if you said Sans wasn’t scaring the shit out of you. You watched, in muted horror, as he slowly raised his hand and the two skulls’ fanged jaws opened. Sans’ eyes were no longer dark, the left flaring up in a flaming cerulean, to which the skulls matched as a bright white light began to emanate from their jaws.

 

You had to act fast, if you were going to do something.

You don’t know how, well you _do_ know how, but you’re not quite sure _how_ you did it – only now you’re standing in the way of Alphys, protecting her from Sans. His smile looks deranged and his raised hand shakes as he leers at you, tilting his head menacingly. You refuse to move however, as the light in the skulls’ jaws continues to charge.

 

“ **m o v e.** ”

 

“No.” You snap, trying to ignore the painful way his voice resonates in your chest, and the shudders it sends down your spine. Alphys’ sobs have gone quieter as she watches in morbid curiosity. You wince, knowing she probably deserved this, but then why not Frisk? Why don’t you just let him kill Frisk if he got Alphys for near the same damn reason?

 

“ **I  w o n ’ t  a s k  a g a i n.** ” You know he’s bluffing.

 

Oh god, you hope he’s bluffing.

 

“I refuse!” You shout, clutching your hands to your sides. God sans terrifies you, and you _know_ he’s acting irrationally out of anger – _why is he so angry? –_ but you have to be his voice of reason before he does something he regrets. Sans only continues to stand there, and a long moment passes as the skulls continue to charge.

 

Eventually, Sans lowers his hand and their jaws shut. They even look confused, somehow.

 

“why?”

 

It’s such a simple question, and you know you should be able to defend your reasoning, but you’re at a loss of words when Sans stares at you. His normal eyes are back and he looks so _lost_ and _angry_ and _terrified._

 

“Because I _know_ she probably deserves it,” you start, taking deep breaths. “but if she does then so does Frisk. And I know you’re angry – _I’m fucking livid, Sans._ Frisk is _my_ responsibility, and I was played like a god damn fool. We all were.” Part of you even wonders if Undyne was in on this too, with the convenient way Papyrus was called away from you. “But I refuse to let you do this. I refuse to see you hurt her, Sans.”

 

You turn to Alphys, and notice that the small monster looks so _defenseless,_ on her knees as she looks at you through her claws. Her yellow scales are red and there’s tears running down her face, and you know you can’t blame her. Part of you wants her _dead,_ but another part of you feels for her. A part of you that knows, that all she needs is a friend. Just like how Frisk needs you, Alphys just _needs_ someone.

 

“I can’t forgive you, Alphys,” you murmur, fully turning to face her, kneeling before her shaking form. She looks away, sobbing once more into her claws. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to try and be your friend Alphys. To start over.”

 

It _burns_ to say that, to offer being her _friend_ after what she did, but it’s practically the same thing you did for Sans. It’s what you try and _hope_ Sans is doing for Frisk. God, you can only hope Alphys can one day try and be the same way with Frisk.

 

There’s a lot of unforgivable shit happening lately, and a lot of scared people doing things they shouldn’t.

 

And why the hell are _you_ the only one with a head on your shoulders?

 

Or were you being too damn kind?

 

You knew you were one thing, and that was utterly _exhausted._ The past day had been nothing but hell and here you were, reaching out and pulling Alphys into a tight hug, no matter what shit she’d tried to pull. You were going to hold her regardless how much she was trying to fight against you, and you ignored the way her claws scratched fruitlessly into your skin into shallow bloody cuts.

 

You knew she really didn’t want you to let her go. Not when she finally succumbed after only a few moments, sobbing into your now bloodied shoulder. Damn, it stung, but you couldn’t care less. Not when you were resting your own head against her shoulder, trying to suppress your tears. It’s a long half hour spent on your knees, holding a sobbing Alphys as she cries to you about _everything._

Alphys, you learn, is nothing but scared. Her entire life revolves around her being a living, breathing, anxiety attack. And you _understand._ You know what it’s like to have so much hinge upon your every move, to constantly be under watch. Maybe not to the extent of having an entire kingdom’s hopes and dreams set on your efforts, but you knew what it was like when you had to fight tooth and nail to keep Frisk.

 

She spilled to you about everything.

 

About the amalgamates, about her mentor, a monster named Gaster who only _she_ remembers (for some unexplained reason) and about loving Undyne.

 

She tells you about the melting monsters in the basement and how _kind_ they are and how they only want to return home. She tells you how she’s so scared she’ll be rejected because she couldn’t save them fully. She thinks that because she couldn’t reanimate them completely, it was a failure, and now, they were _real_ monsters.

 

You’re quick to tell her that they were living, _breathing,_ and as she said, ‘kind’ monsters, all because she brought them back from being dead. Or being… ‘fallen’ as she put it.

 

She tells you about how she absolutely _idolizes_ Undyne and how much she wishes Undyne would just love her back. She sobs about how much she wants to tell Undyne, or that she wishes she would pick up on what Alphys feels, only that she’s worried that Undyne will hate her. That they’re nothing more than friends. Or less than that, and Undyne will be _revolted._

 

You still don’t know Alphys enough but at this point you don’t care what she tried to do to Frisk. Alphys is _broken_ and you want nothing more than to hold her tight and tell her how special she is.

 

So you do.

 

She doesn’t mention Gaster, but you don’t push it. It’s been enough already.

 

Lastly she tells you how she watched, slowly but surely, as Frisk worked their way through the ruins, killing _everybody._

You ignore it when she calls Frisk ‘violent’ and ‘angry’ and how much Frisk seemed to easily cut through body after body. For what Alphys explained as, _for fun._

 

Frisk had been frightened, you tell yourself.

 

 _You’d been frightened, but_ you _hadn’t killed anyone._

 

Eventually Alphys is crying a little softer now, her speech much easier to understand as she lets you go and constantly repeat ‘sorry’. Slowly, you stand and groan as your knees protest from being on the ground so long. You feel like you’ve run a marathon, and you want nothing more than to collapse. Alphys looks up at you shyly, absolutely _wrecked,_ and you smile weakly.

 

You’re surprised you’re still standing.

 

“Alphys, just… make sure to come visit, okay? Frisk doesn’t… they don’t have to know it was you.” You assure softly and Alphys stares at you in complete wonder and shock.

 

You wonder too, why you’re being so damn forgiving.

 

“O-okay.” Alphys looks down, and fiddles with her hands. Deciding this was as good a note as any to leave on, you turn to Sans. He’s been standing there the entire time in silence, only now he’s leaning against the wall. His eye sockets are closed but you somehow just know he’s not asleep. The creatures he summoned from earlier are gone, and he turns to face you once you walk towards him.

 

“Let’s go home, Sans.” You murmur, and he only hums and pulls you in close. You’re too tired to care that things between the two of you are so awkward. You just want to sleep.

 

As reality dissipates around you, you fall asleep with Sans’ arm around your waist to keep you close to him. You’re **determined** to somehow make it all better when morning rolls around. Hopefully, by then, everything would be okay.


	30. Twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans takes you home.

Sans fell to his knees when he reappeared, clutching your body tight enough to bruise your skin. You seemed ignorant to the world, eyes closed and chest rising and falling in calm, soothing motions. He hadn’t wanted to wake you, but he was surprised yet relieved you were still asleep after a trip through the void. Then again, you had journeyed through nearly half of the Underground in the span of a day in a half, without sleep. It must’ve been hard for you to tell day and night down here – and even harder to know not only when, but _where_ it was safe to use the sleeping roll packed in the bag you’d left at Alphys’ lab.

 

He’d have to go back for that, but not now. Not when he’s holding you tight to his chest as Frisk meekly approaches the two of you.

 

Sans looks up at the kid in surprise, trying his damn hardest to ignore the gnawing suspicion and fear in his gut when Papyrus isn’t in sight. Instead, he watches as Frisk approaches you, wincing when their hand hovers over your bloody shoulder. Slowly, Frisk’s eyes roam your body the same way Sans had when he had first saw you in Alphys’ lab. They’re looking for injuries, and the reassuring rise and fall of your chest.

 

**Is she okay?**

 

Frisk is looking at Sans now, the short skeleton glancing at the charge in his arms before letting out a long-held breath. He nods slowly before standing; he doesn’t trust himself to speak right now, not when things are so confusing.

 

He wants _so much_ right now, but he knows he should be glad for what he has. He _wants_ Frisk to not be your sibling. He _wants_ for Frisk to have never arrived, or come out of the ruins with Toriel’s dust on their skin. He _wants_ to trust the kid. He also _wants_ to start over with you, if only to fix things and make them better.

 

Sure, Sans is a little fucked up. He _knows_ that. But he’s willing to try, and god does it hurt to try. It’s soul numbing to put himself out like this and care, when the very reason he shouldn’t is following him closely as he walks to the bottom of the stairs, with you in his arms. Frisk could turn at any moment and kill all of them, Sans knows, but somehow, you stopped them. Your presence scared Chara off or _something,_ and Sans is glad for that. But if hundreds of resets taught him anything, it’s that this hell never ends.

 

_There will always be another reset._

Sans shudders, trying to hide the movement by shrugging further into his jacket. Frisk is looking up at him with big eyes and an inquisitive look. They don’t need to sign in order for Sans to read the question on their face and emanating from their soul.

 

“don’t worry kiddo,” Sans supplies, wondering not for the first or last time if Frisk knows about the resets, Chara, or _him_ knowing _._ “i’m gonna get her patched up. watch this.” He winks at the kid in a show of anticipation before once more ripping himself into the void, making the short distance to the top of the stairs instantaneous. He doesn’t have to look to know Frisk’s somber mood has been slightly broken by their wonder at Sans’ magic trick.

 

Sans’ humor at the thought of him doing a literal magic trick for Frisk’s amusement is dampened by the silence in the house. He also can’t stop thinking about why the hell he was acting so kind to the brat. For all he knew, it was Chara. Not Frisk.

 

Slumping his shoulders in resignation, Sans walks the few feet forward to the bathroom, before opening the door with his magic. Since he can’t use his hands he lifts his head, his cervical vertebrae popping from magical disuse. He shoulders his way inside, walking over to the bathtub and places you inside. Listening to the sounds of Frisk’s feet on the staircase, he starts the tub’s faucet at a lukewarm temperature but doesn’t put in the tab so it can’t fill up. Once he’s got that sorted, he sighs and stretches into standing straight, listening to more of his bones crack and pop with magic.

 

Frisk watches all of this from the doorway with curious eyes, their mouth set into a thin, firm line. The look reminds him so much of when you’re worried about something, making Sans smile softly at Frisk. He feels uneasy smiling at the kid, but it warms him slightly to see Frisk relax slightly at the gesture.

 

 **Papyrus went looking for you.** Frisk signs with sure, deft motions, even though they don’t really _need_ to. Sans can read their soul better than his own after smashing it into pieces time and time again. He knows what they’re going to say before they even do, he can sense it so finely. It worries him, and confuses him, that he can’t sense even a single ounce of ill intent in Frisk’s heart, at least, not since Frisk saw you.

 

He’s really got to learn to let it go. But how can he, when he’s been certain Chara was gone before, in previous timelines, only to fool and trick him?

 

Frisk has to snap a few times before Sans realizes he zoned out, the small skeleton taking a seat on the closed toilet. He sighs and scratches the back of his skull before glancing past Frisk into the house, wishing Papyrus would just be in bed right now, a room away.

 

“do me a favor and wait downstairs for him, kiddo? i’m gonna get your sis all patched up, ‘kay?” He blinks at Frisk expectantly, who thankfully nods and disappears without a fuss, shutting the door behind them. He knew Frisk could be a little stingy at times, and he was thankful they agreed to give him some privacy as he got you cleaned.

 

With the sound of the running faucet blocking out the sound of Frisk’s footsteps in the otherwise empty house, Sans begins to undress your unconscious form meticulously. There is nothing other than worry and a scientist’s caution as he does this, until you’re naked in the bathtub, soaked clothes placed on the floor far away from the two of you. Sans is completely professional as he rinses the cuts on your upper arm and shoulder, and other small scrapes and bruises you acquired on your journey through waterfall. You’re pretty banged up, but Sans has to admit – blushingly – that you’re still beautiful.

 

Why wouldn’t you be? He frowns.

 

The scratches Alphys made are shallow bar a few on your clavicle, where two parallel cuts dig into your skin. They’re not deep enough to warrant anything too serious other than a bandage and a visit to Grilbys, and Sans is grateful for that. A part of him still wants to tear Alphys limb by limb until there’s dust coating every surface of his lab.

 

But he’s got to respect your wishes. Besides, you made sense, for an overly kind human. A human that desperately needed to wake up and realize the world they were now in wanted them dead.

 

Or maybe you were more stupid than Sans thought, if you knew all of that and _still_ treated everyone you met with the kindness and forgiveness Sans was starting to recognize as a vital part of your soul.

 

Because if that wasn’t the case and you were smart enough to try a true pacifist route, maybe your presence would stop Frisk from resetting after they leave the barrier. The kid had done it before.

 

Sans has thought of this before, too, only he’s certain it can’t be that easy. Not with Chara having been in charge at the beginning of this reset. There’s no way.

 

Sans begins to chuckle softly when he imagines what you might say if you heard what he was thinking. Or knew what he was doing. You’d probably tear his head off his body and clog the toilet with it, after calling him a nihilistic self-depraving hopeless asshole, and that he was doing _such_ a good job at earning brownie points with you.

 

_way to go sans!_

 

Halfway through rinsing you for the final time, Sans hears the sound of his brother’s voice and the tell-tale crackling of Grilby’s flames as the fire elemental speaks. Sans is both relieved and confused on why he’s here. He knew he wanted to visit him tomorrow to have him heal you – Grilby was an extremely talented healer – but it was a mystery as to why he was here _now._ Then again, Sans was extremely relieved Papyrus was not only home, but not alone downstairs with Frisk.

Turning off the faucet, Sans lifted your wet form, once again surprised you hadn’t woken up yet. Then again, you must’ve been in plenty of confrontations with other monsters in Waterfall. Getting the shit knocked out of you by confused monsters was enough to put out anybody like a light. How Frisk did it during the first resets, before Sans snapped, the skeleton will never know.

 

Maybe through sheer determination.

 

_Did that mean you weren’t as determined as Frisk?_

 

Shaking those thoughts away, Sans teleported once more, this time into his room, pulling the covers off of his bed with a nod of his head. He set your wet form on the sheets, slightly apologetic he didn’t dry you beforehand. As he began to manually pull the sheets around you and tuck you in, he was surprised when you _did_ stir, eyes flickering open lazily.

 

“ _Mmm…_ Sans?” You sounded horrible. Like you’d been hit by a brick or two. Or a dozen. Sans crouched besides the bed, looking into your eyes with a soft smile.

 

“’sup.” He murmured, speaking softly. He could still hear Papyrus and Grillby talking downstairs, thankfully giving the two of you some space. “feelin’ okay sweetheart?”

 

“Yeah…” You murmured, eyes flickering closed. A few moments passed where you lied there, facing Sans, humming airily. Sans was half convinced you were about to fall asleep again, only you opened your eyes when he shifted to settle into a more comfortable position. “Sans?”

 

“yeah?” He asked as he reached forward, brushing your hair away from your eyes. Your eyes fluttered shut when his bones swiped across your skin, opening once more when he pulled away.

 

“Can we start over?” You asked, giving him a gentle look before yawning softly. “But that means you gotta start over with Frisk, too.”

 

If Sans had a heart, it would have stopped.

 

Starting over with you – a new try for a better relationship in exchange of tolerating and trusting Frisk more, he could do. He smiled deliriously, nodding.

 

Suddenly he was very thankful for your kind, forgiving nature.

 

“i’d love that.” Sans murmured, watching you wince when he spoke a little too loudly out of his excitement. A sly smile overtook your sleepy features as you snuggled further into his bed.

 

“Good. And Sans?”

 

“Yeah?” Sans smiled dopily now, looking up at you from the bedsheets. Sure, today had been absolute _hell_ but this was too good to be true. He felt happy, thankful, and hopeful. He felt **_determined_**.

 

“Get out.” You teased, closing your eyes. “’M naked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schoooolllll whyyyyyyyy


	31. Thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two familiar monsters are there to greet you when you wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went back to edit this and hahaha
> 
> I have this addon that changes y/n to my name so i forgot to fix it for uploading this chapter. sorry.

When you wake up, it’s a gradual thing as your body slowly comes to life, each little movement bringing to light just how sore you are. You ache all over. The worst part is your shoulder, which looks horrible with crisscrossed scabs all across your skin. Another thing is you’re naked under the sheets, but thankfully, you remember waking up when Sans put you into his bed and the conversation the two of you had.

 

Rolling off of your stomach and onto your back, you put a hand up to shield your eyes. There wasn’t much light at all in the room, the window above your head shuttered. Even then the wintry landscape of Snowdin did wonders for muting whatever passed for sunlight in the Underground. Still, it was _too much light_ and you were not in the mood to wake up right now.

 

Groaning in frustration, you pulled the sheets over your head in resignation. You didn’t want to do anything but sleep for a thousand years. Everything was so fucked up right now. You didn’t want to think things through, but if you were going to head downstairs and face whoever was down there, you needed to be prepared, right? You’d did your best so far to try and piece things together coherently as you’d gone by through the Underground. You always tried to think things through.

 

You know what? Fuck it. Besides, right now all you could think about was Frisk – _god, Frisk_.

 

_Frisk was almost murdered yesterday._

Armed with this sudden thought, you bolt out of bed, finding a set of clothes laid out for you on the floor next to you. The folded set of clean clothes was easy to pick out from all the other dirty clothes that were haphazardly strewn about. Deciding to talk to Sans about the state of his room later – _especially_ about the trash tornado that was roaring lowly, you got dressed, happy to find it was just a large sweater and loose fitting jeans (including undergarments, of course). A lazy-kind-of-day outfit – just what you needed.

 

Opening the door to Sans’ bedroom, you noticed that the house was unusually bright. You guessed it was about midday, but from what you’d come to know of Snowdin, it was never _this_ bright enough to light up the Skeleton brother’s house this way. There wasn’t much noise aside from the television, but you could just barely make out the low murmur of voices.

 

Stepping out from the doorway, you turned to shut the door behind you. You shifted your shirt, deciding that maybe a sweater wasn’t what you needed right now – it was resting uncomfortably on your shoulder, and while it wasn’t painful, it was irritating. You had the idea that Sans probably picked out the cozy outfit with good intentions, but probably hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was a nice gesture, though.

 

Looking over the railing, you blinked in surprise as two familiar monsters looked up at the sound of the door closing. On the couch was Sans and Grillbys, both of whom were silent as they looked at you. Smiling tensely, extremely befuddled at the sight of your employer, you walked down the stairs trying not to grimace at the way your body protested. Sans muted the TV, giving you a look over. He looked horrible – there were dark circles under his eye sockets, his smile looked frail and tense, and his entire body on edge.

 

Strange enough for a guy who looked like he was trying to become a part of the couch.

 

“Hey guys.” You continued to smile weakly, Grillbys nodding in reply. His flames were the brightest source of light in the house, soft shadows dancing on the walls. “Where’s Frisk and Papyrus?”

 

“pap took frisk out to play in the snow. they should be back soon.” Sans supplied, tilting his head lightly. “not gonna lie sweetheart, you look like shit.”

 

Despite everything, you laughed, giving Sans a sly smile. “ _I_ think it’s a good look for me.” You stretch, groaning lightly when your joints popped. By now Sans knew what that noise was, but looked no less embarrassed and freaked out than the first time. “God, am I sore.”

 

“heh. would imagine so, after you worked yourself _down to the bone_ yesterday.”

 

You paused, laughing softly. You hated that you were still scared of Sans. You can still see him behind your eyelids, about to kill Alphys or Frisk.

 

But… You did want to restart with him. It was only fair.

 

“… _y/n._ ” Grillbys, who had been standing a little awkwardly politely interjected, flames crackling lightly. You looked at the fire elemental with a quizzical frown, and noticed how Grillbys wasn’t even properly dressed. Were those pajamas? And slippers? Why was he still wearing his sunglasses?

 

“What’re you doing here anyways, Grillbys?” You asked. You’d never seen Grillbys out of his uniform for work, and you couldn’t come up with any possible idea why he was here at midday, in his pajamas.

 

“he came over last night with pap.” Sans explained for him, knowing the monster wasn’t much for words. “after i left to get you, pap took frisk home then went out to look for me. pap went to grillbys and asked him if he’d seen me and eventually it came down to pap telling him what happened. he came over with pap after that.”

 

“But why?” You pressed, knowing you probably shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Sans was silent then, and it struck you that with the look he was giving the fire elemental, that he too, was curious. Grillbys shifted slightly, his flames whispering gently. The usually calm monster seemed nervous, if anything.

 

“… _y/n. I know you and Frisk are humans_.” He began, causing both you and Sans to still. “ _I am very old. I fought in The War. But I understand that you and Frisk are good humans. Humanity has changed._ ” His voice was a low rasp, and as Grillbys took in a shuddering breath it reminded you to breathe too. You couldn’t just keep holding onto baited breath all the time. _“I came because I was worried about you, and I believe if you would let me, I could heal you._ ”

 

For a few moments, you’re unsure what to say or think. It’s from a combination of just getting up, too many things having happened, and not having enough time to really think it over. Sans seems to know what to say however, flashing Grillbys a thankful smile.

 

“we’d both appreciate that, grills.” Sans murmured, surprising you. You’d expected Sans to be upset or suspicious, but then again he must’ve had some trust for his long-time friend.

 

You nodded, agreeing with Sans as the fire elemental motioned for you to sit where he’d been sitting on the couch. Walking over in a bit of a daze, you sat down on the warm seat. Probably because of his flames, even though you knew from experience that the monster wasn’t hot to the touch, but exceedingly warm and in control of his temperature.

 

You looked Grillbys in his glasses as he kneeled before you, his face morphing into a soft smile. Suddenly, in a gesture you were unfamiliar with, he seemed to tug at the air in front of your chest. A warm, tight feeling you were beginning to associate to confrontations settled in your chest, a bright glow following the sudden arrival of your soul. The bright color of the red object illuminated the room even brighter than Grillbys’ form, your eyes brought to the small object hovering in front of you. Grillbys’ fingers hovered in the air around your soul, seeming to cup it gently without touching.

 

This was much different than a confrontation, both monsters’ eyes glued to your soul, Gillbys’ in concentration and Sans’ in wonder and awe. You smiled softly at the way Sans couldn’t look away from it, a bright blue blush spreading across his cheekbones. He seemed completely unaware of your stare, and you took full advantage of being able to stare at him freely.

 

Sans looked exhausted and tired, and you knew you couldn’t look much better. There were dark circles and bags under his eyes, tense lines around his mouth and where his eyebrows would be. He looked a little more relaxed now looking at your soul, but you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for how shitty he looked. You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, but you still wondered if there was a way you could help him feel better.

 

Suddenly, catching you unaware, a comforting warmth flooded your body, running along and under your skin in the opposite effect of having chills. Immediately your body relaxed into the couch, becoming boneless with comfort and the warm pleasure of Grillbys’ magic. You could feel the way his flames lapped gently at your soul with green tendrils, healing your soul into glowing even brighter. Your shoulder felt a hell of a lot better, not including how refreshed you now felt.

 

Smiling at Grillbys as the fire elemental pulled away and your soul sank back into your chest, you glanced at Sans. He was still staring at the space your soul had been, blinking owlishly. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, as Grillbys stood before you.

 

“What, too _heated_ for you Sans?” Smiling mirthfully as his gaze snapped to your own, the skeleton smiled bashfully.

 

“i… uh,” He paused, before closing his mouth. He looked stumped if anything.

 

Was Sans really rendered speechless?

 

You laughed, Grillbys joining in. It was such a good feeling – a gut busting laugh as the skeleton became bluer and bluer. You couldn’t help it, you were filled with joy and **determination**.

 

“ _… I guess y/n’s got too much_ spark _for you, sans._ ”


	32. In which the author accidentally posted this to their other story at first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate these kinds of chapters.
> 
> Doing one makes me frustrated - but eh.

This was my first undertale fic, y'know?

 

For those of you who've read some of my newer things, like Fall, Undertale Oneshots, and Cobalt strings &  Carmine Heelys, you can probably see an immense difference in quality. This was me dipping my feet into the pool, wanting to test just how hot or cold the water might be.

 

This story is not dead,

 

I had, at one point, some kind of plot in mind - but I've forgotten it.

 

That and this story, for a long time, fell to the wayside because it just didn't interest me anymore.

 

That and, for me, it makes me cringe.

 

Uh.

 

As I said, it's not dead. I plan on rewriting it entirely. Every chapter.

 

It's just... I feel like it needs this, considering how poorly I believe this is written in comparison to my other undertale works. And I feel like a story like this - that is somehow my most popular, wtf - deserves to be given the same attention it gathers from its readers from the writer.

 

So, uh, in summary - I've been lazy and have enjoyed writing other things.

 

I'll finish Cobalt strings & Carmine Heelys, post another smut oneshot that's currently in the works right after, and then...

 

Then I'll finally give this story the justice it deserves - hopefully.

 

Maybe.

 

Yes...

 

?

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a Tumblr! Come bug me and stuff - [@ittybittyboneybae](http://www.scripttura.tumblr.com)


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